Singer: Juan D'ARIENZOSinger 2: Mario BustosComposer: Juan PolitoAuthor: Francisco Gorrindo
Popular Performances
Latest
Most Performed By
More by Juan D'ARIENZO
Caña
Juan D'ARIENZO
tango804 videos
El flete
Juan D'ARIENZO
tango387 videos
El puntazo
Juan D'ARIENZO
tango381 videos
Pensalo bien
Juan D'ARIENZO
tango358 videos
La cicatriz
Juan D'ARIENZO
milonga344 videos
Mi dolor
Juan D'ARIENZO
tango337 videos
Milonga vieja milonga
Juan D'ARIENZO
milonga324 videos
Canaro
Juan D'ARIENZO
tango320 videos
Lyrics
Ahogando este grito que sube del pecho, y llega a los labios cargao de rencor, yo vuelvo a tu lado, atadas las manos, pero pa' decirte que todo acabó, Que ya no me importa tu risa o tu llanto, que a fuerza 'e coraje vencí al corazón, y que hoy como nunca mirándote cerca, te veo realmente, así como sos. La Bruja, que ayer fuera reina de todo mi ser, hoy, roto el encanto, no es más que mujer. La Bruja, montón de caprichos que me esclavizó, hoy es un paisaje, cubierto de horror. Me vuelvo a la vida sencilla y honrada, me vuelvo a un cariño que es noble y leal, y puede que un día, curada mi alma, a fuerza de hombría levante un hogar. Entonces, acaso, me habré redimido, y vos, para entonces, quién sabe si sos, un cacho de invierno cargado de males, un resto de vida, un poco de tos.
English translation
Choking this cry that rises from the chest, and reaches the lips loaded with rancor, I return to your side, my hands tied, but to tell you that it's all over, That I no longer care about your laughter or your crying, that by dint of my courage I conquered my heart, and that today, as never before, looking at you close, I see you as you really are. The Witch, who yesterday was queen of all my being, today, broken the charm, is no more than a woman. The Witch, a heap of whims that enslaved me, today is a landscape, covered with horror. I return to the simple and honest life, I return to a love that is noble and loyal, and maybe one day, my soul healed, by dint of manhood I will raise a home. Then, perhaps, I will have redeemed myself, and you, by then, who knows if you are, a piece of winter laden with evils, a remnant of life, a little cough.



































