Caminemos con María - Lyrics

Yo soy Maria de Buenos Aires

Yo soy María de Buenos Aires – I am María from Buenos Aires          From the Tango Opera María de Buenos Aires (1968)                  

Astor Piazzolla (1933-1990)

Argentina

​

I am María from Buenos Aires

from Buenos Aires María, don't you see who I am?

María tango, María from the suburb

María night, María fatal passion

María of love, from Buenos Aires I am!

I am María from Buenos Aires

If in this neighborhood people ask who I am

soon they'll know

the females that will envy me

and every macho at my feet,

like a mouse in my trap, will fall

I am María from Buenos Aires

I'm a witch (b*tch) singing and loving too

If the bandoneon provokes me... tiará, tatá!

I bite hard its mouth... tiará, tatá!

with ten flower spasms that I have in my being

I always tell myself "let's go María"

when a mystery climbs in my voice

and I sing a tango that nobody ever sang

and I dream a dream that nobody ever dreamed

because tomorrow is today with yesterday later, che!

I am María from Buenos Aires

from Buenos Aires, María I am, my city

María tango, María from the suburb

María night, María fatal passion

María of love, from Buenos Aires I am!

María va

María va – Mary walks (1982)                                                        

Argentina                                                                                          

Antonio Tárrago Ros (b. 1947)

​

With small eyes,

crooked legs,

Maria goes.

barely stepping

burning sand,

Maria goes.

Through burning the mountain

Under a fiery sun,

Maria goes.

Fear the “pombeo’s” home.

palm grove and estuary,

Maria goes.

It was a nap

What brough a child

to her loneliness.

A child of wheat and moon

and from your hand

Maria goes.

Through the tobacco plantations

her step Mary goes.

She drinks the sun

that smells like a “duende”

Maria goes.

Walking the summer of sun and cicada,

to flowers of the mountain,

Maria, your town smelled.

A lazy train, huff and puff

a watered street, Maria, your town smelled.

To the pure innocence of a village boy,

Maria, your town smelled.

 Like watered street and flowers of the mountain,

María Landó

María Landó – María Lando (1995)                                                      

Perú

Chabuca Granda (1920-1983)

​

Morning explodes like a statue,

Like a statue made of wings

Which disappear around the city,

And noon sings her water bells,

Gold water bells

That forbid us to be lonely.

And night rises her long glass,

Her long glass long,

The early moon over the sea.

But for María there is no morning,

But for María there is no noon,

But for María there is no moon,

She rises her red glass over the waters.

María does not have time

To raise her eyes,

María from rising her eyes

Broken for lack of sleep,

María is broken for lack of sleep,

Because she goes suffering,

María for going suffering,

Only works,

María for only working,

Only working, only working

María only works,

And her work does not belong to her.

Luiza

Luiza – Luiza (1981)                                                                                   

Brasil                                                

Tom Jobim (1927-1994)

​

Street,

A naked sword

In the sky a huge yellow moon,

So round, is drifting,

As if floating,

Sailing the blue of the firmament

And in the slow silence

A troubadour, full of stars

Is now listening to the song I made

To forget you Luiza

I'm just a poor amateur

Passionate

An apprentice of your love

Wake up my love

For I know that underneath that snow lives a heart

Come here, Luiza

Give me your hand

Your desire is always my desire

Come, exorcise me

Give me your mouth

And the lunatic rose

Come give me a kiss

And a ray of sunshine

In your hair

Like that of a diamond that, splitting the light,

Explodes in seven colors

Thus revealing the seven thousand loves

That I've kept only to give them to you Luiza

Luiza

Luiza