Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song El Último Organito, artist - Anibal Troilo.
Date of issue: 25.07.2016
Song language: Spanish
El Último Organito(original) |
Las ruedas embarradas del último organito |
Vendrán desde la tarde buscando el arrabal |
Con un caballo flaco, un rengo y un monito |
Y un coro de muchachas vestidas de percal |
Con pasos apagados, elegirá la esquina |
Donde se mezclen luces de luna y almacén |
Para que bailen valses detrás de la hornacina |
La pálida marquesa y el pálido marqués |
El último organito irá de puerta en puerta |
Hasta encontrar la casa de la vecina muerta |
De la vecina aquella que se cansó de amar; |
Y allí molerá tangos para que llore el ciego |
El ciego inconsolable del verso de Carriego |
Que fuma, fuma y fuma sentado en el umbral |
Tendrá una caja blanca, el último organito |
Y el asma del otoño sacudirá su son |
Y adornarán sus tablas cabezas de angelitos |
Y el eco de su piano será como un adiós |
Saludarán su ausencia las novias encerradas |
Abriendo las persianas detrás de su canción |
Y el último organito se perderá en la nada |
Y el alma del suburbio se quedará sin voz |
El último organito irá de puerta en puerta |
Hasta encontrar la casa de la vecina muerta |
De la vecina aquella que se cansó de amar; |
Y allí molerá tangos para que llore el ciego |
El ciego inconsolable del verso de Carriego |
Que fuma, fuma y fuma sentado en el umbral |
(translation) |
The muddy wheels of the last barrel organ |
They will come from the afternoon looking for the suburb |
With a skinny horse, a lame and a little monkey |
And a choir of girls dressed in calico |
With footsteps off, he'll pick the corner |
Where moonlights and warehouse mix |
For them to waltz behind the niche |
The pale marquise and the pale marquis |
The last little organ will go from door to door |
Until we find the dead neighbor's house |
Of the neighbor that she got tired of loving; |
And there she will grind tangos so that the blind man cries |
The inconsolable blind man of Carriego's verse |
Who smokes, smokes and smokes sitting on the threshold |
He will have a white box, the last little organ |
And autumn asthma will shake your son |
And the heads of little angels will adorn their boards |
And the echo of his piano from him will be like a goodbye |
The brides locked up will greet her absence |
Opening the shutters behind her song |
And the last little organ will be lost in nothing |
And the soul of the suburb will be left without a voice |
The last little organ will go from door to door |
Until we find the dead neighbor's house |
From the neighbor who got tired of loving; |
And there she will grind tangos so that the blind man cries |
The inconsolable blind man of Carriego's verse |
Who smokes, smokes and smokes sitting on the threshold |