Amarroto (Stingy)
Amarroto (Stingy)
Music: Juan Cao
Lyrics: Miguel Bucino
Translation: Felipe & Ayano
Recorded by Juan D'Arienzo with Alberto Echagüe in 1951
Embedded Files
Español
Español
Te pasaste treinta agostos de una esquina a otra esquina
sin saber que era una mina, ni una copa, ni un café.
La yugabas como un burro y amurabas meneguina
practicando infantería de tu casa hasta el taller.
Fútbol, timbas y carreras eran cosas indecentes,
sólo el cine era tu vicio... si podías garronear.
Y una vuelta que asomaste los mirones por Corrientes
al marearte con las luces te tuvieron que auxiliar.
Hijo de "Quedate quieto” y la zaina “No te muevas",
nunca, nunca te rascaste ni teniendo sarampión…
Flor de chaucha que en la esquina no ligaste ni una breva
porque andabas como un longhi chamuyándolo al botón.
No tenías ni un amigo, “que el buey solo bien se lame”,
según tu filosofía de amarroto sin control.
Y amasabas los billetes como quien hace un salame
laburando de esclavacho, como un gil, de sol a sol.
Hoy te veo engayolado... Te chapó una solterona
que podría ser tu nona y que es toda tu pasión…
Y seguís amarrocando para que ella, tu monona,
se las dé de gran princesa a costillas del chabón.
En el banco de la vida al final siempre se pierde,
no hay mortaja con bolsillos a la hora de partir.
Vos que no sabés siquiera de un final “bandera verde”,
aclarame, che amarroto... ¿para qué querés vivir?
English
English
You spent thirty years from corner to corner
not knowing what a woman was nor a drink nor a café.
You worked like a mule and saved all the money walking from home to the workplace.
Soccer, gambling and horse races were indecent things,
your only vice were the movies… if you could go for free.
And one time that you showed up around Corrientes Ave.,
the neon lights made you dizzy and you had to get help.
Son of “Stay Still” and a black woman named “Don’t Move”,
you never scratched yourself, not even when you had measles...
You’re a nobody who never got anything out of the street corner
because you were like a fool chatting with the policeman.
You didn’t have a single friend, “the lonely bull licks itself”
according to your philosophy of being extremely stingy.
And you made money as easily as you make a sausage
working like a slave, like a fool, from dawn to sunset.
Today I see you trapped…
By a spinster who could be your grandma and that it’s all your passion...
And you keep saving up so that she, your cutie,
can pretend to be a great princess at the expense of the fool.
In the bank of life one always loses in the end
there is no shroud with pockets when it’s time to leave.
You, that don’t even know what a tight finish end is,
tell me, hey Stingy, what do you live for?
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