Текст и перевод песни Carlos Gardel - El Ciruja

El Ciruja

Como con bronca y junando
De rabo de ojo a un costado
Sus pasos ha encaminado
Derecho pa'l arrabal
Lo lleva el presentimiento
De que en aquel potrerito
No existe ya el bulincito
Que fue su único ideal

Recordaba aquellas horas de garufa
Cuando minga de laburo se pasaba
Meta punga, al codillo escolaseaba
Y en los burros se ligaba un metejón
Cuando no era tan junado por los tiras
La lanceaba sin tener el manyamiento
Una mina le solfeaba todo el Vento
Y jugó con su pasión

Era un paica papusa
Que yugaba de quemera
Hija de una curandera
Mechera de profesión
Pero vivía engrupida
De un cafiolo vidalita
Y le pasaba la guita
Que le sacaba al matón

Frente a frente dando muestra de coraje
Los dos guapos se trenzaron en el bajo
Y el Ciruja, que era listo para el tajo
Al cafiolo le cobró caro su amor
Hoy ya libre 'e la gayola y sin la mina
Campaneando un cacho 'e sol en la vereda
Piensa un rato en el amor de la quemera
Y solloza en su dolor

Como con bronca y junando
De rabo de ojo a un costado
Sus pasos ha encaminado
Derecho pa'l arrabal
Lo lleva el presentimiento
De que en aquel potrerito
No existe ya el bulincito
Que fue su único ideal

The Burglar

With rage and frowning
Out of the corner of his eye off to the side
He headed in that direction
Straight for the slums
Driven by a premonition
That in that little field
There will no longer be the little shack
That was his only dream

He remembered those gambling hours
When he had no trouble passing the time
Hooking arms, going from bar to bar
And getting drunk on cheap wine
When he wasn't being harassed by the police
He would feel them out without being obvious
A girl would sing him all the words
And he gambled with his passion

She was a beautiful woman
Who played the role of a hustler
Daughter of a healer
Burglar by trade
But she lived in a daze
Of a pimp's sweet talk
And he gave her the money
That he stole from the bully

Facing off, showing their courage
The two strong men clashed downtown
And the Burglar, who was quick with a knife
Made the pimp pay dearly for his love
Now free from prison and without the girl
Lounging in the sun on the sidewalk
He thinks for a moment about the love of the hustler
And he sobs in his grief

With rage and frowning
Out of the corner of his eye off to the side
He headed in that direction
Straight for the slums
Driven by a premonition
That in that little field
There will no longer be the little shack
That was his only dream