Boedo

Sos neighborhood of the gotán and the pebeta,
the heart of the porteño suburbs,
the cradle of the scoundrel and the poet,
cordial corner,
the capital
of the suburb.

I became there with a bad heart
because I buried my restless youth
next to the threshold where the pebeta
no longer waits for me
pa' chamuyar.

Boedo, you are like me:
malevo as is the gotán,
open like a heart
that is tired of suffering.
The same as you I am like that:
outwardly cordial and singing,
I say yes to everyone
and I say no to my heart.

You're like me in milongón... A piece
of the arrabal, in his emotion of the lengue,
ande el gotán, provocative and macho
today is the God
Our Lord
of the Berretín.

What does that Florida girl want to do?
If you put your heart canyengue,
like a flower in the buttonhole pinned,
on the balconies
of every bulín!