Chiquilin de Bachin - Astor Piazzolla arr. for Violin Cello and Piano
Rusanda Panfili, Teodora Miteva and Donka Angatscheva perform the famous tango in walz rhythm written by Astor Piazzolla , "Chiquilin de Bachin" from the main Hall of the Kursalon in Vienna, Austria
The original Lyrics were written by Horacio Ferrer and tell the story of a street child selling roses in the restaurants of the Art District of Buenos Aires to make a living.
Original Lyrics:
Por las noches, cara sucia, De angelito con bluyín
Vende rosas por las mesas, Del boliche de Bachín
Si la luna brilla, Sobre la parrilla
Come luna Y pan de hollín
Cada día en su tristeza, Que no quiere amanecer
Lo madruga un seis de enero, Con la estrella del revés
Y tres reyes gatos, Roban sus zapatos
Uno izquierdo y el otro, ¡también!
Chiquilín, Dame un ramo de voz
Así salgo a vender, Mis vergüenzas en flor
Baleame con tres rosas, Que duelan a cuenta
Del hambre que no te entendí
Chiquilín
Cuando el sol pone a los pibes, Delantales de aprender
Él aprende cuánto cero, Le quedaba por saber
Y a su madre mira, Yira que te yira
Pero no la quiere ver
Cada aurora, en la basura, Con un pan y un tallarín
Se fabrica un barrilete, Para irse, ¡y sigue aquí!
Es un hombre extraño, Niño de mil años
Que por dentro, Le enreda el piolín
Chiquilín, Dame un ramo de voz
Así salgo a vender, Mis vergüenzas en flor
Baleame con tres rosas, Que duelan a cuenta
Del hambre que no te entendí
Chiquilín
Rusanda Panfili - Violin
Donka Angatscheva - Piano
Teodora Miteva - Cello
Rusanda Panfili, Teodora Miteva, and Donka Angatscheva perform the famous tango in waltz rhythm written by Astor Piazzolla, "Chiquilin de Bachin," from the main hall of the Kursalon in Vienna, Austria.
The original lyrics were written by Horacio Ferrer and tell the story of a street child selling roses in the restaurants of the Art District of Buenos Aires to make a living.
Original Lyrics:
At night, dirty-faced, like a little angel in jeans
He sells roses from the tables, in Bachín's tavern
If the moon shines, on the grill
He eats moonlight and sooty bread
Every day in his sadness, that doesn't want to wake up
January 6th wakes him up early, with the star upside down
And three cat kings steal his shoes
One left and the other, too!
Little boy, give me a bouquet of voice
That's how I go out to sell, My shame in bloom
Battle me with three roses, Let them hurt on account
Of the hunger that I didn't understand you
Little boy
When the sun sets the kids, Aprons of learning
He learns how much zero, He had left to know
And he looks at his mother, Wandering and wandering
But he doesn't want to see her
Every dawn, in the garbage, With a loaf of bread and a noodle
He makes a kite, To leave, and he's still here!
He's a strange man, A thousand-year-old child
Whose inside, The string ties him up
Little boy, give me a bouquet of voice
That's how I go out to sell, My shame in bloom
Battle me with three roses, Let them hurt on account
Of the hunger that I didn't understand you
Little boy
Rusanda Panfili - Violin
Donka Angatscheva - Piano
Teodora Miteva - Cello