La porteñita

The girl from Buenos Aires, the boys called you,
because you were all body and soul for tango,
with your skirt, your percale blouse,
you were a bit of the suburb, in the tango halls.
When the hoarse bandoneons enveloped you,
like a flame the milonga ignited you,
with your style, your cadence and your rhythm,
they formed a circle in the hall, to watch you dance the milonga.

Swirling your flowery percale,
little butterfly of the suburb's light,
who didn't stay sighing,
following your turns, dreaming, dreaming.
You must have heard words of love,
neighborhood milonguera,
but your love was tango,
and tango lived in your heart.

You were famous from Palermo to Corrales,
you were the queen of the suburb dances,
your tap danced on the floor,
marking a figure eight in the hall,
amidst the swaying of your percales.
You were born for tango and tango was your life,
in my memory my nostalgia doesn't forget you,
this milonga, compadrita, is for you,
that my emotion gives you, like a flower from the heart.