Текст и перевод песни Victor Heredia - Cosmopolita Y Feliz

Cosmopolita Y Feliz

Debiio Nacer
Como la Torre de Babel
Con ese espiritu en la piel
Cosmolita y Liberal
Acogedora y Residual

Le gusta el Bridge
Habla en Frances y habla en ingles
Mescla Lunfardo con el "yes"
Y tiene un swing "tres bien" Paris
Ama a los Beatles y a Bee Gees

Pero no moja sus pies
Ni en el Senna ni en el Rhin
El Riachuelo es su Guardian
Para mal de su nariz

Ella adora Saint Tropez,
Punta Lara es un pastel
Que no puede masticar
Su protesis de marfil

Hay Buenos Aires,
Dulce morena
Deje escurrir tu quimera
Y vuelve a tu luna llena
A tu barrio y a tu "spleen"

Que no hay otro sol mas lindo
Que Palemo los domingos
Cuando empieza atardecer
Y hueles tanto a mujer

Bien pudo ser
Culpa de aquella inmigracion
Que trajo Europa en su eclosion
Esa angustia de comprar
Channel o Madame Rochas

O pudo ser
Nuestra conquita castellana
Que trajo angustias toledanas
Con su costumbre de mirar
Allende siempre del mar

Hay Buenos Aires,
Dulce morena
Deje escurrir tu quimera
Y vuelve a tu luna llena
A tu barrio y a tu "spleen"

Que no hay otro sol mas lindo
Que Palemo los domingos
Cuando empieza atardecer
Y hueles tanto a mujer

Hay Buenos Aires,
Dulce morena
Vuelve que te amo asi...

Cosmopolitan and Happy

I was born
Like the Tower of Babel
With that spirit in my skin
Cosmopolitan and Liberal
Welcoming and Restless

She likes Bridge
She speaks French and she speaks English
She mixes Lunfardo with "yes"
And she has a swing "tres bien" Paris
She loves the Beatles and the Bee Gees

But she doesn't get her feet wet
Neither in the Seine nor in the Rhine
The Riachuelo is her Guardian
To the detriment of her nose

She adores Saint Tropez,
Punta Lara is a piece of cake
That she can't chew
Her ivory prosthesis

Oh Buenos Aires,
Sweet brunette
Let your dream flow away
And return to your full moon
To your neighborhood and your "spleen"

That there is no other sun more beautiful
Than Palermo on Sundays
When the sunset begins
And you smell so much like a woman

It could well have been
The fault of that immigration
That brought Europe in its awakening
That anguish of buying
Channel or Madame Rochas

Or it could have been
Our Castilian conquest
That brought Toledo's anguish
With its habit of looking
Beyond the sea always

Oh Buenos Aires,
Sweet brunette
Let your dream flow away
And return to your full moon
To your neighborhood and your "spleen"

That there is no other sun more beautiful
Than Palermo on Sundays
When the sunset begins
And you smell so much like a woman

Oh Buenos Aires,
Sweet brunette
Come back, I love you like that...