Tango Time Machine — Tango Decoder

CORNETIN: Blasts from the past

Cornetín (The Cornet)*
Tango, 1942
Music: Pedro Maffia
Lyrics: Homero Manzi/Cátulo Castillo

This charming period piece takes us back to the late 19th or very early 20th century when Buenos Aires streetcars were still pulled by teams of horses. A somewhat girl-crazy streetcar driver by the name of Roque Barullo blows merrily on his cornet, hoping to attract the attention of any cute girl who might happen to step out of her doorway as he passes. There's more to it than that, but I don't want to spoil the fun for you!

Lyrics are by two towering giants of tango poetry, Homero Manzi (this is the sixth of his songs decoded here; the others are NINGUNA, ARRABAL, LA GAYOLA, VENTARRÓN, and ORGANITO DE LA TARDE), and Catúlo Castillo, author of ESTAMPA FEDERAL and many other great tangos. The song's composer Pedro Maffia needs no introduction. Suffice it to say he's one of the greatest tango musicians of all time, "the idol," according to Pedro Laurenz. The song was written for the 1942 film Eclipse de sol. 

By the way, the film (see clip below) presents a deliberately idealized, comical, but quite charming arrabal street scene; the canny viewer will notice a stereotypical compadrito leaning against the corner of a building in the background! And: Is it just me, or does anyone think Libertad Lamarque in closeup looks remarkably like Julie Andrews? Uncanny.

On YouTube:
Roberto Grela w/ Nelly Omar (TD's favorite—not danceable, but terrific singing and guitar!)
Carlos Di Sarli w/ Roberto Rufino 
Francisco Canaro w/ Roberto Roldán 
Libertad Lamarque: "Cornetín" (from the 1942 film Eclipse de sol)

At Tango.info

Tará, Tarí! Lo apelan Roque Barullo*   conductor del Nacional. Con su tramway, sin cuarta ni cinchón, sabe cruzar el barrancón de Cuyo. El cornetín, colgado de un piolín, y en el ojal un medallón de yuyo. Tarí, tarí. y el cuerno listo al arrullo si hay percal en un zaguán. Calá, que linda está la moza, calá, barriendo la vereda, Mirá, mirá que bien le queda, mirá, la pollerita rosa. Frená, que va a subir la vieja, frená porque se queja, si está en movimiento. Calá, calá que sopla el viento, calá, calá calamidad. Tarí, tarí, trota la yunta,* palomas chapaleando en el barrial. Talán, tilín, tilín resuena el campanín del mayoral picando en son de broma y el conductor castiga sin parar para pasar sin papelón la loma Tarí, tarí, que a lo mejor se le asoma, cualquier moza de un portal. Qué linda esta la moza, barriendo la vereda, mirá que bien le queda, la pollerita rosa. Frená, que va a subir la vieja, Frená porque se queja si está en movimiento, calá, calá que sopla el viento, calá, calá, calamidad. Tarí, Tarí... Conduce Roque Barullo de la línea Nacional.

Tará, Tarí!* They call him Roque Barullo,  driver for the Nacional Line. He knows how to get his streetcar across the big gorge at Cuyo without riding crop or saddle strap.* His cornet hangs by a cord, and in his buttonhole, a medallion of herbs.*   Tará, Tarí! and the horn ready to coo*  in case there’s “percale”* in an entrance hall.* Calá! Check it out, how pretty the girl is, Calá! Check it out, she's sweeping the sidewalk, Mirá! Look how well it suits her, Mirá! Look, the nice pink skirt. Frená! Hit the brakes! The old lady is gonna get on, Frená! Hit the brakes! She’ll complain if the car's in motion. Calá, calá! See how the wind blows, calá, calá...calamity! Tarí, tarí, so the team trots, pigeons splashing in the muck. Ding-a-ling-a-ling,  the conductor's  little bell resounds, jokingly spurring the driver on;  he whips the horses non-stop to get over the hill without shame. Tarí, tarí, perhaps some girl will come out of a gate. How pretty this girl is, sweeping the sidewalk. See how well it suits her, the little pink skirt. Frená! Hit the brakes, 'cos the old lady is about to get on. Frená! Hit the brakes, because she complains if the car's moving. Look, look how the wind blows, calá, calá, calamity. Tarí, Tarí... So drives Roque Barullo  of the Nacional line.

NOTES:

* Cornetín/Cornet: The instrument in question is a small brass horn, similar to a modern cornet, but smaller and lacking the three brass valves of its cousin. Like the more-familiar bugle, it was used for military communication. The 1870 addition of horse-drawn streetcars to Buenos Aires' narrow streets caused traffic and safety problems. The sounding of the cornetín was used to warn oncoming traffic, both wheeled and pedestrian, of the streetcar's approach. In the song, the driver of the streetcar blows the horn; other sources suggest it was blown by a man or boy called a postillón or coronetero who walked forty metres ahead of the car. 

* Tará, Tarí... Calá... Mirá... Frená... : The central poetic conceit of the song is that the Barullo's cornet "speaks"; each of the rhythmic, binary phrases he blows has a meaning in Lunfardo or in popular speech. Tará Tarí, is the sound of the cornet itself; some sources suggest this was also an onomotopoetic nickname for the drivers themselves. Calá (Eng.: cahl-AH) is a Lunfardism, a command meaning "look here," or a"check it out." Mirá (mee-RAH) means more or less the same thing, but in standard Spanish. Frená (fray-NAH), from frenar, "to slow down or apply a brake"—the brakes on a modern vehicles are frenos—hence, "hit the brakes!" or simply "stop!" (I like "hit the brakes!" for greater impact, but to be honest I'm not sure whether horse-drawn streetcars had any brakes to hit.)

* riding crop...saddle strap: A reference to the practice of the cuarteador, a wandering towman with a stout horse who provided extra pulling power for wagons and carriages that got stuck in the abundant muck of Buenos Aires steets. This was especially needed by vehicles climbing a hill or, as in this case, the steep banks of a gorge. A cuarta was a riding crop used by the cuarteador and the cinchón was the stout, reinforced saddle strap to which he affixed his tow rope. (The term cuarta also refers to the service provided, so a cuarta is what we would call a tow.) For a complementary view of the cuarteador, see Tango Decoder's version of the song EL CUARTEADOR, by another outstanding tango poet, Enrique Cadícamo. You can see the saddle strap clearly in the accompanying illustration.

* medallion of weeds: medallón de yuyos. In Eclipse de sol the Barullo character wears a carnation in his lapel; she tenderly touches it as she sings the line. So maybe a medallion of weeds is somehow another name for a carnation? Hard to fathom. 

* serenade: Arrullo, from arrullar, "to whisper sweet nothings; to lull to sleep; to bill and coo." 

* percale: Percal was a slang term for a working-class girl; refers to the low-quality percale, a cotton fabric worn by working women and school girls. The tramway did not necessarily stop at a particular corner; it stopped at the doorway of a house. That explains Barullo's somewhat voyeuristic inclinations.

TARAREANDO: Numbing by humming?

"The experience that the years bring, how many things they have taught me! Hardened by disappointments, I take things as they are. And to no one do I tell my sorrows, my grief or my resentment, I just keep on with my song. Humming I go through life because that way I live it better."

On YouTube:
Miguel Caló w/ Raúl Berón
Carlos Di Sarli w/ Roberto Rufino

Tarareando (Humming)
Tango, 1942
Words and Music: Juan José Guichandut & Oscar Rubens  

Tarararí, tarará,

tarararí, tarararí, tarará.

Tarareando voy por la vida,

tarareando... tarareando...

Y aunque sangre por una herida

a flor de labios tengo un cantar.

Si es que me muerde el corazón,

la pena o el rencor,

olvido
con mi canción.

Tarareando voy por la vida

porque así la vivo mejor.

(Humming:) Ta-ra-ra-ree, ta-ra-ra-ra,
Ta-ra-ra-ree, ta-ra-ra-ree, ta-ra-ra-ra

Humming I go through life,
humming... humming...
And though I may be bleeding from a wound,
I’ve always got a song at the ready.
Should sorrow or resentment
nip at my heart,
I forget
with my song.
Humming I go through life
because that way I live it better.


Tarareando... tarareando...

las penas voy ocultando...

y aunque me esten lastimando

con mi tarareo

las voy olvidando.

Si me ha engañado un amor

tarararí...

o algun amigo falló

tararará...

Aunque yo viva sufriendo

nunca sabrán mi dolor.

Humming.... Humming....
My sorrows I keep on hiding...
and although they may pain me,
with my humming
I keep on forgetting.
If a lover has deceived me
ta-ra-ra-ree,
Or a friend has died, 
ta-ra-ra-ra, 
Although I may live in suffering
they’ll never see my pain.

La experiencia que dan los años

¡cuántas cosas me ha enseñado!

Yo curtido de desengaños

tomo las cosas tal como son.

Y a nadie cuento mi amargor,

mi pena o mi rencor

y sigo

con mi canción.

Tarareando voy por la vida

porque así la vivo mejor.

Si me va bien, tararí...
 
Si me va mal, tarararí, tarará...

The experience that the years bring:
How many things they have taught me!
Hardened by disappointments,
I take things as they are.
And to no one do I tell my sorrows,
my grief or my resentment,
I just keep on
with my song.
Humming I go through life
because that way I live it better.



If things go well, tarararí....
if things go badly, tararará....

Orquesta Donato Racciatti

Orquesta de Donato Racciatti en la fonoplatea de Radio Carve, ubicada en lacalle Lorenzo Carnelli. Década de 1960 (aprox.). (Foto: Colección Horacio Loriente) Donato Racciatti (1918-2000). Badoneonista, compositor y director, contribuyó a la vigencia del tango bailable y popular, no sólo en las capitales del Plata sino también en las provincias Argentinas y en el interior de Uruguay. Fue una de las orquestas de tango que más viajó a Japón. Sus mayores éxitos de su autoría fueron “Hasta siempre amor” y “Tu corazón”.

Hasta siempre amor (Forever more, my love)

"You'll look everywhere for that friendly hand I gave you, and only then will you understand that by loving you, I lost you."

Hasta siempre, amor
(Forever More, My Love)
Tango, 1953
Composer: Donato Racciatti 
Lyricist: Federico Silva
At tango.info

Lyricist Federico Silva (1920-1986) was the author of more than 150 tango lyrics, including Qué falta que me haces! and Marol. 

On YouTube:
Juan D'arienzo/Jorge Valdez (1958)
Carlos Di Sarli/Horacio Casares (1958, danced by Gabriel Missé & Analia Centurion)
Olga Del Grossi (television appearance, N/D, beautiful!)
Donato Racciatti/Olga Del Grossi (1958)

Requested by Nata Lia, one of Tango Decoder's loyal readers at Tango Lyrics & Translations on Facebook. This is dedicated to you, tanguera!

Hasta siempre, amor, pasarás de otro brazo y dolerá el fracaso igual que hoy. Hasta siempre, amor, corazón como el mío, que compartió tu hastío, no encontrarás. Y entre la gente buscarás la mano amiga que te di y sólo así comprenderás que por quererte te perdí. Hasta siempre, amor, pasarás de otro brazo y dolerá el fracaso igual, igual que hoy. Hoy me sangra el recuerdo como una espina nueva del corazón. Hasta siempre, amor, cuando sueñes conmigo en las noches de frío ya no estaré. Y no me llames, si me ves a mi también con otro amor, porque es inútil esperar si la esperanza ya murió. Hasta siempre, amor, pasarás de otro brazo y dolerá el fracaso igual, igual que hoy.

Forever more, love,*  you’ll pass by on someone else’s arm and the failure will hurt just like it does now. Forever more, love, a heart like mine that shared your ennui  you will never find. And you’ll look everywhere*  for that friendly hand I gave you and only then will you understand that by loving you, I lost you. Forever more, love, you’ll pass by on someone else’s arm and the failure will hurt just the same, the same as it does now. Now the memory draws blood like a fresh thorn from the heart.  Forever more, love,  when you dream of me in the cold nights  I'll no longer be there. And don’t call out to me, if you see me too  with another love, because it’s useless to hope  if hope already died. Forever more, love, you’ll pass on someone else’s arm and the failure will hurt just the same, the same is it does now.

NOTES:

* Until always: The literal meaning of hasta siempre is "until always." The phrase is an idiomatic expression meaning "farewell," used especially in cases where one doesn't expect to see the person again; it's often heard at funerals/wakes. However, as I understand the lyric, the phrase is also meant in its literal sense, with explicit reference to future time (siempre). I have rendered the phrase as "forever more" in order to preserve the temporal integrity of the original text.

* look everywhere: Entre la gente buscarás. Literally, "among the people you will look." 

One orchestra, two configurations

Orquesta Donato–Zerrillo. S. f. (Foto: Museo y Centro de documentación AGADU) Edgardo Donato y Roberto Zerrillo crean la orquesta, que toca entre 1927 y 1931. Juntos escriben el famoso tango “Se va la vida”. Resulta interesante destacar la presencia en esta formación de los hermanos uruguayos de Edgardo, Ascanio y Osvaldo Donato, así como la presencia de Héctor Gentile, quien fuera una de las figuras más destacadas del tango del Uruguay.

Orquesta Donato-Zerrillo en en los bailes de carnaval del teatro San Martin de la ciudad de Buenos Aires. Año 1930. (Foto: Museo y Centro de documentación AGADU) La orquesta uruguayo-argentina, es una síntesis de la hermandad de los músicos de ambas ciudades. Por la musicalidad, por la profundidad de un concierto, al tango siempre le calzó muy bien el ámbito del teatro. En este caso la orquesta esta reforzada con muchos músicos para lograr una correcta amplificación.

NINGUNA: Magnolias, mirrors, murmured memories

"Your skin, magnolia drenched in moonlight. Your voice, whisper warmed by love. No one like you will there be; they all died the moment you said goodbye."

Ninguna (No one)
Tango, 1942
Music: Raúl Fernández Siro
Lyrics: Homero Manzi

From the pen of one of tango's greatest poets comes one of the greatest love songs in any genre, Ninguna (No One). 

Ninguna on YouTube:
Alberto Castillo - Aníbal Troilo (From the movie Tango vuelve a París, 1948)
Ángel Vargas - Ángel D´Agostino
Orlando Medina - Ricardo Malerba

Esta puerta se abrió para tu paso. Este piano tembló con tu canción. Esta mesa, este espejo y estos cuadros guardan ecos del eco de tu voz. Es tan triste vivir entre recuerdos... Cansa tanto escuchar ese rumor   de la lluvia sutil que llora el tiempo sobre aquello que quiso el corazón. No habrá ninguna igual, no habrá ninguna, ninguna con tu piel ni con tu voz. Tu piel, magnolia que mojó la luna. Tu voz, murmullo que entibió el amor. No habrá ninguna igual, todas murieron  en el momento que dijiste adiós. Cuando quiero alejarme del pasado, es inútil... me dice el corazón. Ese piano, esa mesa y esos cuadros guardan ecos del eco de tu voz. En un álbum azul están los versos que tu ausencia cubrió de soledad. Es la triste ceniza del recuerdo nada más que ceniza, nada más...

This door opened to let you pass. This piano trembled with your song. This table, this mirror, these paintings hold echoes of the echo of your voice. It’s so sad to live among these memories... It’s so tiring to hear this murmur of light rain that weeps unceasingly over that which the heart desired. No one like you, no one will there ever be, no one with your skin, your voice. Your skin, magnolia drenched in moonlight. Your voice, whisper warmed by love. No one like you will there be; they all died the moment you said goodbye. Even if I want to distance myself from the past, it’s useless... my heart tells me. This piano, this table and these paintings hold echoes of the echo of your voice. In a blue album are the verses that your absence filled with loneliness. They are the sad remains of the memory, nothing more than ash, nothing more....

Index of all Tango Decoder titles at the Tango Translation Database.

NEW FEATURE: Index of Tango Decoder titles at TTDb

Tango Decoder's great friend and collaborator Sasha Vicente-Grabovetsky has added something new to his Tango Translation Database (TTDb). Each translator can have an index listing all their own translations. What a gift! Thank you, DJ Sasha! Here's ours:

Tango Decoder Index at TTDb

Use this link to find out which titles Tango Decoder has translated, and to conveniently access them all. At the time of this writing, there are sixty.

[Photo: DJ Sasha Vicente-Grabovetsky]

COMO ABRAZADO A UN RENCOR: Last tango in Bolivia?

On October 9, 1967, Che Guevara was summarily executed by US Rangers working in collaboration with the Bolivian army. On this day, October 15, Fidel Castro acknowledged Che's death and proclaimed three days of public mourning throughout Cuba. 

It is said that during the guerrilla war, on nights when there was a lull in the fighting, Che and his compatriots liked to drink a bit of maté and listen to recordings of tangos by Carlos Gardel. It is also said that Che's favorite was the 1930 tango Como abrazado a un rencor ("As if bearing a grudge"), words by Antonio Miguel Podestá and music by Rafael Rossi. Here, perhaps for the first time in English translation, are the lyrics to Como abrazado a un rencor.

[Tango Decoder's English-language version of Como abrazado a un rencor is a joint venture of maestro de tango Paul Bottomer and TD's own Michael Krugman. Be sure to visit Paul's fascinating Facebook page, "Today's Tango Is..." Many thanks for your invaluable contribution, Paul. As always, it was a pleasure working with you! Thanks also to Dr. Martha Santos of Buenos Aires for last-minute correction of the text.] 

On YouTube:
Carlos Gardel
Angel Díaz w/ Horacio Salgán
Roberto Goyeneche
Aldo Campoamor w/ Astor Piazzola
Fernando Díaz w/ Francisco Lomuto 

Como abrazado a un rencor
(As if bearing a grudge)
Tango, 1930
Music: Rafael Rossi
Lyrics: Antonio Miguel Podestá

“He’s done for,” declared the womenfolk,* and the man, 
already a corpse by all omens, in the last moment 
of his short life of crime, left to the world the testament 
of these bitter words expressing his resentment.



Tonight my bold exploits end forever; 
a mysterious babble engulfs my heart.* 
In the corner someone’s honing the blade of the Scythe; 
he comes a bit closer to the bed, sniffing around the coffin. 
 
The most pointless memories assault my mind: 
an infancy without toys, a past without honor, 
the pain of the chains that burn my wrists, 
and a girl who brings my manhood to its knees.

I want to die by myself, 
without confession and without God, 
crucified in my sorrows 
as if bearing a grudge. 
Nothing do I owe to this life, 
nothing do I owe to love: 
one gave me bitterness 
the other, betrayal.



I don’t want the hypocrisy of false tears, 
nor words of consolation, I’m not looking for absolution; 
I don’t expect sacraments or funeral speeches: 
I surrender as calmly as I surrendered to the cops.* 
Only to you, my far-away mother, if you’re still alive, 
would I grant the right to light four candles for my farewell, 
to pour your heart out over my heretical dying moments, 
to weep over my hands and ask me for my heart.

NOTES:

* declared the womenfolk: sentenciaron las comadres. The primary meaning of the verb sentenciar  is to sentence, as in "The judge sentenced him to death." The protagonist is dying—we don't know the exact cause—but he is also receiving a metaphorical death sentence.

* his short life of crime: su pobre vida rea. The word reo/rea can simply mean unhappy or deprived, but it also implies imprisonment or criminality. The latter sense seems more accurate in the context of the lyric.

* mysterious babble engulfs my heart: un chamuyo misterioso me acorrala el corazón. Chamuyo is a slang word with many meanings: a conversation, sweet talk, a lie, rubbish, nonsense. The verb acorralar means to corral (like a horse), to entrap, to corner, to enclose in a limited area, to surpise or disconcert. An alternate readings of line could be, "All sorts of mysterious rubbish unsettles my heart."

* as I surrendered to the cops. como me entregué al botón. Botón is slang for a police officer, and apparent reference to the many shiny buttons on their coats. 

[Castellano]

"Está listo", sentenciaron las comadres y el varón,
 
ya difunto en el presagio, en el último momento 

de su pobre vida rea, dejó al mundo el testamento 

de estas amargas palabras, piantadas de su rencor... 

Esta noche para siempre terminaron mis hazañas 

un chamuyo misterioso me acorrala el corazón, 
 
alguien chaira en los rincones el rigor de la guadaña 

y anda un algo cerca 'el catre olfateándome el cajón. 
Los recuerdos más fuleros me destrozan la zabeca:
 
una infancia sin juguetes, un pasado sin honor,
 
el dolor de unas cadenas que me queman las muñecas 

y una mina que arrodilla mis arrestos de varón.

Yo quiero morir conmigo,
 
sin confesión y sin Dios,
 
crucificao en mis penas 

como abrazao a un rencor.
 
Nada le debo a la vida,
 
nada le debo al amor: 

aquélla me dio amargura 

y el amor, una traición.

Yo no quiero la comedia de las lágrimas sinceras,
 
ni palabras de consuelo, no ando en busca de un perdón;
 
no pretendo sacramentos ni palabras funebreras:
 
me le entrego mansamente como me entregué al botón.
 
Sólo a usté, mama lejana, si viviese, le daría 

el derecho de encenderle cuatro velas a mi adiós,
 
de volcar todo su pecho sobre mi hereje agonía,
 
de llorar sobre mis manos y pedirme el corazón...

Raul Courau: Composing a life in tango

Uruguay's Raúl Courau was a very solid pianist, bandleader and composer who tirelessly plied his trade for thirty-five years and achieved some very real success, yet is virtually unknown today. That's Courau at the piano, above, and dig that crazy drumkit—maybe the very one that got him kicked out of the stodgy Pianists' Association (see below for that story). And dig also that Afro-Uruguayan drummer, unnamed, who couldn't be a day over fifteen, and who appears to be sitting on top of the world. How delightful! Be sure to listen below to Courau's beautiful composition, "Mientras llora el tango" as recorded by the Eldorado Tango Band in 1930.

The following biography of Courau is from todotango.com, and was written by Uruguayan tanguero, photographer, and historian Horacio Loriente. It's a bit long and detailed, but I translated it in full because it gives such a good idea of Corau's varied accomplishments. Translation by Tango Decoder, Copyright © 2014. (Foto: Museo y Centro de documentación AGADU) 

Raúl Courau (15 October 1896 - 11 June 1956) was born right in the center of Montevideo, at Buenos Aires and Ituzaingó. A scholarly pianist, he had solid training with the maestros Martín Lopez and Tomás Mujica.

His professional debut as an orchestra director with a classical repertoire took place in the Cine Doré, a charming little room that operated at Mitre 1376, although before that he was informally the pianist of a small conjunto típico in the Café Liropeya, a few steps from the Doré, at the corner of Sarandi. These things happened over the course of five years, ending at the beginning of 1920.

Contracted by Max Glücksmann’s firm, he gave performances in almost all the cinemas operated by that great company. Upon including a drum kit in his group and getting himself banned by the Pianists’ Association, he had to distance himself from that organization. In the cinemas, interchangeably with the orquestas típicas or classical, he played an extraordinary role and accompanied the tenor Enzo Fusco and Libertad Lamarque, among other famous artists. (Keep reading below the video...)

 

Spurred by the rise of the of the repertoire of Uruguayan authors promoted by the agents of the Victor label, Bernardo Glücksmann offered Raúl Courau a paid position, in exchange for exclusive rights to his output (as related to us by Víctor Soliño).

In the year 1927, Courau presented two tangos in the contests put on by the Disco Nacional label. In the Buenos Aires contest, it was “En silencio,” fourth prize, performed in the Palace Theatre, and in Montevideo it was “Canchero Viejo” (not to be confused with the tango of the same name by Ricardo Brignolo) performed at the Teatro Urquiza, distinguished by special mention. Both tangos had lyrics by Víctor Soliño.

The following year saw a link between the composer and the Montevideo carnaval, writing the music for the repertoire American Dancing troupe, with the outstanding tango “Artículo de lujo,” that won the first prize offered by the Municipal Festival Commission. The recordings of Ignacio Corsini and the orchestra of Francisco Canaro with refrain sung by Agustín Irusta, meant Courau’s first great popular success. And so, in those days, he made his debut in CX20 Radio Montecarlo and in the Stella d’Italia cinema. 

In the carnaval of 1929 he provided the music for the Black Bottom dance troupe, from which we emphasize “Mientras llora el tango” with lyrics by Esteban Barabino which was performed by the singer Amadeo Violante. The work, presented in the second contest of Disco Nacional, won the first prize upon being performed by the Francisco Canaro orchestra with the singer Charlo. 

For the Glücksmann contest in Buenos Aires, Courau saved a work with a difficult structure that, on being played by Roberto Firpo’s orchestra, won the highest distinction. It was the tango “Rancho emrujao,” with lyrics by Francisco García Jimenez. 

In the carnavals of 1930, probably already under contract with Disco Nacional, the songs and sheet music of Courau began to appear on the Victor label, but with the name “Carlos” Courau. In this carnaval as usual collaborating with the Black Bottom troupe, he achieved one of his greatest successes: the tango “Marquesita de arrabal” wth lyrics by Raúl de Castro, and the vals “Florcita primaveral” with verses by Luis Viapiana. The tango won first prize and the vals, special mention. The following year he debuted his tango “Dulce gitana,” again with Raúl de Castro.

In a musician of his category it’s not surprising that he was successful in other genres. These include his maxixas “Cascarita” and “Che, Antenor hacé el favor,” the ranchera “Trago amargo,” and Venganza de Pierrot,” a beautiful unsigned tango recorded by the Roberto Firpo orchestra, the fado “O ninho dos passarinhos,” popularized by the Uruguayan voice of Luis Díaz, and a rumba, “Cubanita flor.” More than 60 titles are on file with AGADU (Asociación General de Autores de Uruguay). 

Courau was closely linked for many years with CX30 Radio Nacional, where he headed several groups and also was the station’s artistic director. In 1935 he formed a classical quartet, giving it the name of Pérez Méndez, in homage to the great violin master Patricio Méndez Pérez. He also had a jazz group called Harry.

He was a tireless diffuser of and contributor to music and was known for his good nature and his honesty. We note that his final work registered with AGADU is a polka titled “El coronel” with a date of 16 April 1956. That very same year his obituary would appear, just two months after the listing of the polka in his file.

 

 

 

LARGA LAS PENAS: Milonga speaks truth to power

Largá las penas
(Cast off your sorrows)
Milonga, 1935
Letra: Manuel Romero
Música: Alberto Soifer (Abraham Moisés Soifer)


[An earlier version of this translation appeared on Facebook.]

I was born to be Milonga 
and so through life I go,
wherever a bandoneon growls
that’s where I do grow.
Milonga, I was born Milonga,
and I have to die as I am.

I don’t know what love is
and suffering never stays,
there’s not a passion so deep
as to make me mend my ways.
Milonga I came into the world
and Milonga I will die.

Yesterday love called to me,
but now it is today,
and the love I give a man*
never long does stay.
And now I say: enough, I’m gone,
like Milonga that I am.

I want to live my life
like a bird that sings; 
the chains and reins of love 
will never bind my wings.
Milonga, cast off your sorrows,
that better you may live.

The ox that's loose,
licks best they say;* 
no boss, no master, no king
will ever stand in my way.
Milonga, I was born Milonga,
and I must die by my law.*

NOTES:

* the love that I give to a man: The text says El amor que a un hombre doy, the love that I give to a man. On the recording, Maida sings, el amor que siempre doy, the love that I always give.

*by my law: en mi ley, possibly a reference to Chronicles 6:16. ‘You shall not lack a man to sit before me on the throne of Israel, if only your sons pay close attention to their way, to walk in my law as you have walked before me.’

*ox...yoke: Variant of the popular saying, “El buey solo bien se lame,” literally, a free ox licks itself well. An ox takes pleasure in licking itself (!), but it can’t lick when it’s in the yoke. When it’s free of the yoke, it licks itself all over--very pleasurable. In other words, Milonga will be happy only when it is free of authority and social control (master, boss, or king).

English-language version Copyright © 2014 by Michael Krugman and Tango Decoder.

Nací para ser milonga
Así por la vida voy,
Donde un bandoneón rezonga
Yo prendida siempre estoy.
Milonga, nací milonga
Y he de morir como soy.

No sé lo que es el cariño
Ni sé lo que es el sufrir,
Ningún metejón profundo
A mí me ha de corregir.
Milonga yo vine al mundo
Y milonga he de morir.

Ayer amor me pediste
Pero ya estamos en hoy,
Y no duró nunca tanto
El amor que a un hombre (que siempre) doy.
Y hoy digo: basta, y me planto
Como milonga que soy.

[Yo quiero vivir mi vida
Como el pájaro cantor,
No me atan ni con cadenas
A la cincha del amor.
Milonga, largá las penas
Que así se vive mejor.]

[Afirman que si está suelto
Lo más bien se lame el buey,
No admito que se me oponga
Dueño, ni patrón, ni rey.
Milonga, nací milonga
Y he de morir en mi ley.*]

EL CUARTEADOR: The movie

In 1977 an Argentine tele-novela El cuarteador was aired, starring Rodolfo Bebán and Gabriela Gil. It was inspired by the Cadícamo song. (Wikipedia)