Paroles et traduction Carlos Gardel - El Bulin De La Calle Ayacuhco

El Bulin De La Calle Ayacuhco

El bulín de la calle Ayacucho
Que en mis tiempos de rana alquilaba
El bulín que la barra buscaba
Para caer por la noche a timbear
El bulín donde tantos muchachos
En su racha de vida fulera
Encontraron marroco y catrera
Rechiflado parece llorar

El primus no me faltaba
Con su carga de aguardiente
Y habiendo agua caliente
El mate era allí señor
No faltaba la guitarra
Bien encordada y lustrosa
Ni el bacán de voz gangosa
Con berretín de cantor

Cotorrito mistongo tirado
En el fondo de aquel conventillo
Sin alfombras, sin lujo, sin brillo
Cuántos días felices pasé
Al calor del querer de una piba
Que fue mía, mimosa, y sincera
Y una noche de invierno fulera
En un vuelo hacia el cielo se fue

Cada cosa era un recuerdo
Que la vida me amargaba
Por eso me la pasaba
Cabrero, rante y tristón
Los muchachos se cortaron
Al verme tan afligido
Y yo me quedé en el nido
Empollando mi aflicción

El bulín de la calle Ayacucho
Ha quedado mistongo y fulero
Ya no se oye al cantor milonguero
Engrupido su musa entonar
En el primus no bulle la pava
Que a la barra contenta reunía
El bacán de la rante alegría
Está seco de tanto llorar

The Apartment on Ayacucho Street

The apartment on Ayacucho Street
That I used to rent when I was a penniless youth
The apartment where the gang would come
To drop in at night to gamble
The apartment where so many boys
In their downward spiral
Found solace and a bed
Seemingly crying in despair

I never lacked a small stove
With its load of firewater
And when there was hot water
The maté was the star
The guitar was never absent
Well-strung and shiny
Nor the rough-voiced tough guy
With the soul of a singer

Poor little down-and-out dove
In the depths of that crowded tenement
Without carpets, without luxury, without shine
How many happy days did I spend
In the warmth of the love of a girl
Who was mine, loving, and sincere
And one cold winter night
She flew away to heaven

Every object was a memory
That made my life bitter
That's why I spent my time
As an angry, bitter, and sad man
The boys disappeared
Seeing me so distressed
And I stayed in the nest
Nursing my sorrow

The apartment on Ayacucho Street
Has been left poor and wretched
You no longer hear the tango singer
Seductively humming his muse
The kettle doesn't bubble on the stove
That used to gather the happy gang
The tough guy with the contagious laughter
Is dry from so much crying