Viejo barrio de mi ensueño,
el de ranchitos iguales,
como a vos los vendavales
a mí me azotó el dolor.
Hoy te encuentro envejecido
pero siempre tan risueño,
barrio lindo. .. Y yo qué soy...
Treinta años y mirá,
mirá que viejo estoy...

Mi barrio reo,
mi viejo amor,
oye el gorjeo,
soy tu cantor.
Escucha el ruego
del ruiseñor
que, hoy que está ciego,
canta mejor.
Busqué fortuna
y hallé un crisol;
plata de luna
y oro de sol.
Calor de nido
vengo a buscar...
Estoy rendido
de tanto amar.

Barrio reo, campo abierto
de mis primeras andanzas,
en mi libro de esperanza
sos la página mejor.
Fuiste cuna y serás tumba
de mis líricas tristezas...
Vos le diste a tu cantor
el alma de un zorzal
que se murió de amor.

English translation

Old neighborhood of my dreams,
the one with the same ranchitos,
like the gales
I was whipped by pain.
Today I find you aged
but always so smiling,
beautiful neighborhood... And what am I...
Thirty years and look,
look how old I am...

My poor neighborhood,
my old love,
hear the chirping,
I am your singer.
Listen to the plea
of the nightingale
who, now that he is blind,
sings better.
I sought fortune
and found a crucible;
silver of the moon
and gold of the sun.
Warmth of a nest
I come to seek...
I am exhausted
from so much loving.

Neighborhood prisoner, open field
of my first wanderings,
in my book of hope
you are the best page.
You were the cradle and will be the tomb
of my lyrical sadness...
You gave your singer
the soul of a thrush
that died of love.