Tu Vieja Ventana (Your Old Window)
Tu Vieja Ventana (Your Old Window)
Music: Guillermo Barbieri
Lyrics: Ambrosio Río
Translation: Felipe & Ayano
Recorded by Ricardo Tanturi with Enrique Campos & Roberto Videla in 1945
Embedded Files
Español
Español
Vengo al pie de tu vieja ventana, mi bien
A ofrecerte, mi vida, este canto de amor,
Porque quiero que sepas que te amo, mi edén
Y te siento latir en mi fiel corazón.
Yo quisiera, mujer, que comprendas
El cariño tan leal que te tengo,
Que me paso las horas pensando
Y es esa la causa que yo ya ni duermo.
(Instrumental)
He traído del campo estas flores que ayer
Arrancaron mis manos con gran frenesi
Porque quiero tenerte contenta, mujer
Y mostrarte que yo, moriría por ti.
Si una intérprete fueras entonces
Sentirías igual que yo siento,
Un amor tan extraño y tan dulce
Que al no realizarse, sería un infierno.
(Instrumental)
Asomá tu carita y no me hagas sufrir
Te lo pido por lo que más quieras, mi amor,
Que al no verte sería capaz de morir
De cariño quizá, o de extraño dolor.
Los culpables han sido tus ojos
Y tus labios los cómplices fueron,
Que me tienen igual que a un esclavo
Y soy si se quiere, tu fiel prisionero.
Que me tienen igual que a un esclavo
Y soy si se quiere, tu fiel prisionero.
English
English
I come to the foot of your old window, my love,
To offer you, my life, this song of love,
Because I want you to know that I love you, my paradise,
And I feel you beating within my faithful heart.
I wish, my dear, that you would understand
The loyal affection I hold for you;
I spend the hours lost in thought,
And that is the reason I no longer sleep.
(Instrumental)
I have brought these flowers from the fields—
My hands plucked them yesterday with such fervor—
Because I want to make you happy, my dear,
And show you that I would die for you.
If you were to feel what I feel,
You would understand this emotion:
A love so strange and so sweet
That, unfulfilled, it would be hell.
(Instrumental)
Show your lovely face and do not make me suffer;
I beg you, by all you hold dear, my love,
For without seeing you, I might well die—
Perhaps from love, or from a strange, aching pain.
Your eyes are the ones to blame,
And your lips were their accomplices;
They hold me just like a slave,
And I am, if you will, your faithful prisoner.
They hold me just like a slave,
And I am, if you will, your faithful prisoner.
Note: Carlos Gardel originally recorded this song in 1927.
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