Son cosas del bandoneón
Son cosas del bandoneón (It's the Bandoneón's Business) is the title of a tango written by Enrique Cadícamo. The music was composed by Enrique Rodríguez.
Lyrics writer(s):
The cry of a bandoneón comes to crack the festive atmosphere. The poet attempts to bring comfort to the melancholy instrument, as if it were a part of himself he'd rather silence, insisting that it's better to hide one's sorrows. The party continues and he makes clear to his friends that if anyone should hear any weeping, it's not coming from himself but from the capricious, old bandoneon.
Recordings
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Lyrics
Son cosas del bandoneón
que se ha puesto a rezongar,
no son mías las tristezas
de esta noche de champán...
No tengo que ocultar
ni tengo penas que desenterrar.
Si algún dolor está
flotando sin querer
sépanlo todos, compañeros, que...
son cosas del bandoneón,
que por gusto, nada más,
esta noche de verbena,
se le ha dado por llorar.
Bandoneón de triste rezongar:
tu lamento me hace mal,
bandoneón, tu funeral compás
es un réquiem compadrón...
Hay que reír...
Hay que cantar...
Mejor será mentir
nuestro penar...
Yo, como vos...
sufro también,
hermano bandoneón,
no llores más...
Muchachos, quiero brindar:
"Por la vida que se va"...
Levantemos esta copa
burbujeante de champán...
La risa lucirá
su alegre cascabel
y en nuestras bocas colgará un reír.
Y si el sollozo está
flotando sin querer,
no se preocupen compañeros, que...
Son cosas del bandoneón
que, por gusto nada más,
en la fiesta de esta noche
se le ha dado por llorar.
It's the bandoneon's business,
it's he, who has begun to growl.
This night of champagne
has a sadness that's not mine...
I don't have anything to hide
nor sorrows to dig up.
If pain should be, by chance,
floating about,
know, fellows, all of you,
that it's the bandoneon's business,
that just for the sake of it
on this festive evening
has felt like crying.
Sadly growling bandoneon:
your lament hurts me,
bandoneon, your funeral rhythm
is a brave[1] requiem.
One must laugh...
One must sing...
It will be better to lie
about our grieving...
I, just like you,
I suffer too.
Brother bandoneon,
don't cry anymore...
Friends, I'd like to toast
"to life passing by"...
Let's raise this bubbling
glass of champagne.
Laughter will shine its merry bell,
the same laughter
that will hang from our mouths.
And should sobbing be
floating about,
don't worry, fellows,
that's the bandoneon's business,
that, just for the sake of it,
at tonight's party,
has felt like crying.
References
- ↑ compadrón: can mean ’brave’, but also ’boastful’, ’arrogant’.