El Bulín de la Calle Ayacucho
Carlos Gardel
Lyrics
Translation
El bulin de la calle ayacucho
The boarding house on Ayacucho Street
Que en mis tiempos de rana alquilaba,
That in my frog days, I used to rent,
El bulin que la barra buscaba
The place the gang sought
Para caer por la noche a timbear;
To gather at night for a gamble;
El bulin donde tantos muchachos
The spot where so many young lads
En su racha de vida fulera
In their streak of tough life
Encontraron marroco y catrera,
Found mischief and trouble,
Rechiflado parece llorar.
Seems to cry out, rejected.
El "primus" no me fallaba
The "primus" never failed me
Con su carga de agua ardiente
With its load of burning water
Y habiendo agua caliente
And having hot water there,
El mate era alli señor;
The mate was served, sir;
No faltaba la guitarra
The guitar was never missing
Bien encordada y lustrosa
Well strung and shiny,
Ni el bacan de voz gangosa
Nor the dandy with a hoarse voice
Con berretin de cantor.
With the whim of a singer.
Cotorrito mistongo tirado
A humble little place thrown
En el fondo de aquel conventillo,
In the back of that tenement,
Sin alfombras, sin lujo y sin brillo,
Without carpets, without luxury and without shine,
Cuantos dias felices pase
How many happy days I spent
Al calor del querer de una piba
In the warmth of the love of a girl
Que fue mia, mimosa y sincera,
Who was mine, affectionate, and sincere,
Y una noche de invierno y fulera
And one winter and tough night
En un vuelo, hacia el cielo se fue.
In a flight, she went to heaven.
Cada cosa era un recuerdo
Each thing was a memory
Que la vida me anargaba,
That life erased for me,
Por eso me la pasaba
That's why I spent my time
Cabrero, rante y triston;
Shepherd, boasting, and sad;
Los muchachos se cortaron
The guys distanced themselves
Al verme tan afligido,
Seeing me so distressed,
Y yo me quede en el nido
And I stayed in the nest
Empollando mi aflicción.
Hatching my sorrow.
El bulin de la calle ayacucho
The boarding house on Ayacucho Street
Ha quedado mistongo y fulero,
Has become shabby and rundown,
Ya no se oye al cantor milonguero
You no longer hear the milonga singer
Engrupido su musa entonar;
Deceptively chanting his muse;
Y en el "primus" no bulle la pava
And in the "primus," the kettle doesn't bubble
Que a la barra contenta reunia,
That brought joy to the happy gang,
Y el bacan de la rante alegria
And the dandy of the boisterous voice
Esta seco de tanto llorar.
Is dry from crying so much.