Tita De Buenos Aires - Cacho Castaña

Te pintaron las cejas con dos pinceladas de asfalto caliente

Y quedó Buenos Aires dibujada en tu frente

Y esa pena de amor que agrandó tus ojeras, faltando a la cita

No pudiste borrarla ni con agua bendita

Era escudo y espada tu palabra atrevida

Tu mirada insolente, cuanto miedo tenías que te dañe la gente

Esa gente que hablaba y que mal comentaba tu sabiduría

Ellos nunca supieron lo que tu ya sabías

Tita de Buenos Aires, Tita mía

La de los tangos calientes y las manos tan frías

La de plegarias al cielo como la Madre María

La del mercado de Abasto, la del paseo en tranvía

Ese loco coraje de potro salvaje, te galopa en las venas

Cuando bailas un tango, cuando cantas tus penas

Y aunque tires la bronca, me trates de loco

De nada me quejo, tu mirada en silencio es también un consejo

Te pintaron las cejas con dos pinceladas de asfalto caliente

Y quedó Buenos Aires y su calle Corrientes

Esa pena de amor que agrandó tus ojeras faltando a la cita

No pudieron borrarla ni con agua bendita

Tita de Buenos Aires, Tita mía

La de los tangos calientes y de las manos tan frías

La de plegarias al cielo como la Madre María

La del mercado de Abasto, la del paseo en tranvía

Que pocos, que pocos se dieron cuenta cuanto miedo les tenías

They painted your eyebrows with two strokes of hot asphalt

And Buenos Aires was drawn on your forehead

And that pain of love that enlarged your dark circles, missing the appointment

You couldn't erase it even with holy water

It was shield and sword your daring word

Your insolent look, how afraid you were that people would harm you

Those people who spoke and badly commented on your wisdom

They never knew what you already knew

Aunt from Buenos Aires, my Aunt

The one with the hot tangos and the hands so cold

The one with prayers to heaven like Mother Mary

The one from the Abasto market, the one from the tram ride

That crazy courage of a wild colt gallops in your veins

When you dance a tango, when you sing your sorrows

And even if you throw the anger, you treat me crazy

I do not complain about anything, your look in silence is also a piece of advice

They painted your eyebrows with two strokes of hot asphalt

And Buenos Aires and its Corrientes street remained

That pain of love that enlarged your dark circles by missing the appointment

They couldn't erase it even with holy water

Aunt from Buenos Aires, my Aunt

The one with hot tangos and so cold hands

The one with prayers to heaven like Mother Mary

The one from the Abasto market, the one from the tram ride

How few, how few realized how afraid you were of them