Canchero - Carlos Gardel

Para el récord de mi vida sos una fácil carrera

que yo me animo a ganarte sin emoción ni final.

Te lo bato pa’que entiendas, en esta jerga burrera,

que vos sos una potranca para una penca cuadrera,

y yo, che vieja, ya he sido relojeao pa’l Nacional…

Vos sabés que de purrete tuve pinta de ligero;

era audaz, tenía clase, era guapo y seguidor.

Por la sangre de mi viejo salí bastante barrero,

y en esas biabas de barrio figuré siempre primero

ganando muchos finales a fuerza de corazón.

El cariño de una mina, que me llevaba doblado

en malicia y experiencia, me sacó de perdedor;

pero cuando estuve en peso y a la monta acostumbrado,

¡que te bata la percanta el juego que se le dió!

Ya después en la carpeta empecé a probar fortuna,

y muchas noches la suerte me fue amistosa y cordial.

Otras noches salí seco a chamuyar con la luna

por las calles solitarias del sensiblero arrabal.

Me hice de aguante en la timba y corrido en la milonga,

desconfiao en la carpeta, lo mismo que en el amor.

Yo he visto venirse abajo sin que nadie lo disponga

cien castillos de ilusiones por una causa mistonga,

y he visto llorar a guapos por mujeres como vos.

Ya ves que por ese lado vas muerta con tu espamento;

yo no quiero amor de besos, yo quiero amor de amistad.

Nada de palabras dulces, nada de mimos y cuentos;

yo busco una compañera pa' batirle lo que siento

y una mujer que aconseje con criterio y con bondad.

For my life record you're an easy run

that I dare to win you without emotion or end.

I beat it so you understand, in this donkey jargon,

that you are a filly for a penca cuadrera,

and I, old woman, have already been watched for the National...

You know that when I was young I looked like a lightweight;

he was bold, he was classy, ​​he was handsome and a follower.

Because of the blood of my old man, I came out quite muddy,

and in those neighborhood biabas I always figured first

winning many endings by force of heart.

The affection of a mine, which took me doubled

in malice and experience, he took me out of loser;

but when I was in weight and accustomed to riding,

May the percanta beat you the game that was given to it!

Later, in the folder, I began to try my luck,

and many nights luck was friendly and cordial to me.

Other nights I went out dry to chamuyar with the moon

through the lonely streets of the sentimental suburb.

I put up with stamina in timba and ran in the milonga,

I distrust the folder, the same as in love.

I have seen it collapse without anyone disposing of it

a hundred castles of illusions for a mistonga cause,

And I've seen handsome men cry for women like you.

You see that on that side you are dead with your espamento;

I don't want love from kisses, I want love from friendship.

No sweet words, no cuddles and stories;

I'm looking for a partner to beat what I feel

and a woman who advises judiciously and kindly.