Atenti pebeta

When you're on the sidewalk and a bacanazo signs you,
you play the chitrula and don't get rid of him;
don't say that you're ready at the first throw of the bow
and that for a couple of well ironed lions you get lost.

When you come to the center, walk along the ground,
dragging the fanguyos and leaning against the wall,
as if you no longer had any illusions or consolation,
because, if you don't, the giles say they've ruined you.

If you see a pair of ducky gloves, pull them off!
To a pair of gaiters, snatch them too!
To those overcoats with fourteen buttonholes
don't give them a thought, because you'll lose them;
to those little moustaches with fourteen lines
that instead of a moustache are a spinel...
pay attention, little boy, follow my advice:
I am an old fox and I love you well.

Pull your skirt down to your ankle, let your hair grow long and wear a nice bun,
buy yourself an iron corset with rivets and screws
and give the olive tree to powder, cream and lipstick, drink milk with vanilla beans or chocolate with churros,
even if you are in the vermouth moment.
Then buy yourself a bufoso and, catching the first turro,
for love's sake you'll make him lose his health.