Barrio Viejo - Ry Cooder

Viejo barrio, Barrio Viejo

Solo hay lugares parejos

Donde un dia hubo casas

Donde vivio nuestra raza

Solo quedan los escombros

De los hogares felizes

De las alegres familias

De esa gente que yo quise

Por las tardes se sentaban

Afuera a tomar el fresco

Yo pasaba y saludaba

Ya parece oigo al lejos

?Como ha estado, Juanita?

Buenas tardes, Isabel

Ahora que dices, Chalita

?Como esta Arturo y Manuel?

Viejo barrio, Barrio Viejo

Que en mi infancia te goze

Y con todos mis amigos

Iba descalzo y a pie

Desde el Meyer hasta al Oyo

Desde el Ocho hasta la Secia

Desde la Secia hasta el rio;

Ese era el mundo mio

Dicen que eramos pobres

Pues yo nunca lo note

Yo era feliz en mi mundo

De aquel barrio que adore

Bonitas las serenatas

A las tres de la manana

Que le cantaba mi chata

Pegadito a su ventana

Por la calle del convento

La casa destruida

Quedo como monumento

Pa’l gran amor de mi vida

Pobrecito viejo barrio

Como te debe doler

Cuando en el nombre del progreso

Te tumban otra pared

Viejo barrio, Barrio Viejo

Yo tambien enviejesi

Y cuando uno ya se hace viejo

Nadie se acuerda de ti

Vamonos muriendo juntos

Que me entieren en tu suelo

Y seremos los difuntos

Rodiados de mil recuerdos

old neighborhood, old neighborhood

There are only equal places

where one day there were houses

where our race lived

Only rubble remains

of happy homes

Of the happy families

Of those people that I loved

In the evenings they sat

Out to drink the cool

I passed and greeted

It already seems I hear in the distance

How have you been, Juanita?

Good afternoon, Elizabeth.

Now what do you say, Chalita?

How are Arturo and Manuel?

old neighborhood, old neighborhood

That in my childhood I enjoyed you

and with all my friends

He was barefoot and on foot

From the Meyer to the Oyo

From the Eight to the Secia

From the Secia to the river;

that was my world

They say we were poor

Well I never noticed

I was happy in my world

From that neighborhood that I adore

beautiful serenades

At three in the morning

That my chata sang to him

glued to your window

down the street of the convent

the destroyed house

I stand as a monument

For the great love of my life

poor old neighborhood

how it must hurt

When in the name of progress

They knock down another wall

old neighborhood, old neighborhood

I am also old

And when one gets old

no one remembers you

Let's go dying together

bury me in your soil

And we will be the deceased

Surrounded by a thousand memories