395px

The Hustler

Carlos Gardel

El Ciruja

Como con bronca y junando
De rabo de ojo a un costado
Sus pasos ha encaminado
Derecho pa'l arrabal
Lo lleva el presentimiento
De que en aquel potrerito
No existe ya el bulincito
Que fue su único ideal

Recordaba aquellas horas de garufa
Cuando minga de laburo se pasaba
Meta punga y al codillo escolaseaba
O en los burros se ligaba un metejón
Cuando no era tan juna'o por los tiras
La lanceaba sin temor al manyamiento
Y Una mina le afanaba todo el vento
Y jugó con su pasión

Era un mosaico diquero
Que yugaba de quemera
Hija de una curandera
Mechera de profesión
Pero vivía engrupida
De un cafiolo vidalita
Y le pasaba la guita
Que le achacaba al matón

Frente a frente dando muestras de coraje
Los dos guapos se trenzaron en el bajo
Y el Ciruja, que era listo para el tajo
Al cafiolo le cobró caro su amor
Hoy ya fuera 'e la gayola y sin la mina
Campaneando un cacho 'e Sol en la vedera
Piensa un rato en el amor de la quemera
Y solloza en su dolor

The Hustler

Like he's pissed and scheming
With a side-eye glance
He's set his sights
Straight for the hood
He's got a feeling
That in that little pasture
The hangout's no longer there
That was his only dream

He remembered those hours of partying
When he’d skip work
Always hustling and scheming
Or getting lucky with the girls
When he wasn’t so known by the cops
He’d throw down without fear of getting caught
And a girl would steal all his cash
And he played with his passion

She was a wild mosaic
Who worked as a thief
Daughter of a healer
A con artist by trade
But she was caught up
With a slick hustler
And he’d take her money
That he blamed on the thug

Face to face, showing courage
The two tough guys got into it in the alley
And the Hustler, who was sharp for the cut
Charged the hustler dearly for his love
Now he’s out of jail and without the girl
Catching a bit of sun in the street
He thinks for a moment about the love of the con artist
And sobs in his pain

Escrita por: E. de la Cruz / F. Marino