Ventarrón

For your fame, for your image,
you're the underworld's most famous malevo;
you are the most taura among all the tauras,
you are Ventarrón himself.

Who equals you for your rank
in the broken canyengues of tango,
in the conquest of hearts,
if the occasion arises?

Among the malevaje,
Ventarrón they call you...
Ventarrón, for your courage,
for your exploits all acclaim you...

In spite of everything,
Ventarron left Pompeii
and went after the star
that his destiny pointed out to him.

Many years have passed
and his guapezas and his berretines
he left them in the coffee shops
as a punishment from God.

Alone and sad, almost sick,
with his defeats biting his soul,
the malevo returned looking for his fame
that someone else had already conquered.

You are no longer the same,
Ventarrón, of those times.
You are cardboard for the friend
and for the maula a poor Christ.

And when you feel a tango
compadrón and frolicking,
you remember that past,
the beautiful glories of Ventarrón.