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| Title: |
Naranjo en Flor by Jorge Antonio |
| Artist: |
Enfected Records
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| Album: |
Jorge Antonio |
Track #: |
4 |
| Copyright: |
Jorge Antonio & Enfected Records |
Encoded By: |
Enfected Records |
| URL: |
http://enfectedrecords.dmusic.com |
| Description: |
Traditional Tango. Read Info Link .
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| Notes: |
From e.barbarella,
I miss my dad (Jorge Antonio, Tango Singer, Songwriter) so very much, he is been touring latin america for the past 10 years with this incredible Tango Show and i thought why not add one of his performances here in my favorite site, this recording was mastered and produce by my brother and I in 2000 under Emil Productions, is a tradicional tango from 1940 original Music by: Virgilio Exposito and Lyrics by Homero Exporito
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| Lyrics: |
Naranjo En Flor
Orange tree in bloom (1944)
Music by: Virgilio Exposito
Lyrics by: Homero Exposito
Era mas blanda que el agua,
que el agua blanda,
era mas fresca que el rio,
naranjo en floor...
Y en esa calle de estio,
calle perdida,
dejo un pedazo de vida
y se marcho...
Primero hay que saber sufrir,
despues amar, despues partir
y al fin andar sin pensamiento...
Perfume de naranjo en flor,
promesas vanas de un amor
que se escaparon en el viento...
Despues, que importa el despues?
Toda mi vida es el ayer
que me detiene en el pasado,
eterna y vieja juventud
que me ha dejado acobardado
como un pajaro sin luz.
Que le habran hecho mis manos?
Que le habran hecho
para dejarme en el pecho
tanto dolor?
Dolor de vieja arboleda,
cancion de esquina
con un pedazo de vida,
naranjo en flor...
She was softer than the water,
than the soft water,
she was fresher than the river,
orange tree in bloom...
In that summer street,
lost street,
she left a piece of life
and she left...
First one has to know suffering,
then how to love, then how to depart,
at the end to walk without a thought
Perfume of orange tree in bloom,
useless promises of love
that escaped in the wind...
Afterwards, does it count?
All my life is a yesterday
that detains me in my past,
eternal, ancient youth
that has left me intimidated
like a bird without light.
What did my hands do to her?
What must they have done
to leave in my chest
so much pain?
Pain of an old grove,
song in a street corner
with a piece of life,
orange tree in bloom...
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