Ivette - Adriana Varela

En la puerta de un boliche

Un bacán encurdelado

Recordando su pasado

Que la china lo dejó

Entre los humos de caña

Retornan a su memoria

Esas páginas de historia

Que su corazón grabó

Bulín que ya no te veo

Catre que ya no apolillo

Mina que de puro esquillo

Con otro bacán se fue;

Prenda que fuiste el encanto

De toda la muchachada

Y que por una pavada

Te acoplaste a un no sé qué…

¡Qué te ha de dar ese otro

Que tu viejo no te ha dado!

¿No te acordás que he robado

Pa que no falte el bullón?

¿No te acordás cuando en cana

Te mandaba en cuadernitos

Aquellos lindos versitos

Nacidos del corazón?

¿No te acordás que conmigo

Usaste el primer sombrero

Y aquel cinturón de cuero

Que a otra mina le saqué?

¿No te traje pa tu santo

Un par de zarzos de bute

Que una noche a un farabute

Del cotorro le pianté

Y con ellos unas botas

Con las cañas de gamuza

Y una pollera papusa

Hecha de seda crepé?

¿No te acordás que traía

Aquella crema lechuga

Que hasta la última verruga

De la cara te sacó?

Y aquellos polvos rosados

Que aumentaban tus colores…

Recordando sus amores

El pobre bacán lloró…

At the door of a bowling alley

A curly bacán

remembering his past

that the china left him

Among the cane smoke

They return to your memory

those pages of history

That his heart engraved on him

Bulín I don't see you anymore

Cot that no longer apolillo

Mine that of pure esquillo

With another bacán he left;

Garment that you were the charm

Of all the girl

And that for a nonsense

You coupled with an I don't know what...

What does that other have to give you?

That your old man has not given you!

Don't you remember that I've stolen

So that the bullion is not missing?

Don't you remember when in Cana

He sent you in little notebooks

those cute verses

Born from the heart?

Don't you remember that with me

You wore the first hat

And that leather belt

That I took from another mine?

Didn't I bring you for your saint

A pair of bute wattles

That one night to a farabute

I pianté him from the parrot

And with them some boots

With the chamois canes

And a papusa skirt

Made of crepe silk?

Don't you remember what he brought

that cream lettuce

That even the last wart

He took you out of the face?

And those pink powders

That your colors increased...

Remembering your loves

The poor bacán cried…