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Singer: Juan D'ARIENZOComposer: Lidio FasoliAuthor: Francisco García Jiménez

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Lyrics
Canción sentimental,
canción de amor y juventud;
humilde y bella flor
de mi inmortal barrio del sur.
Querido valsecito
de los primeros sueños,
de la primera novia,
de la ilusión azul...
Bailando con tu son
iban los pies y el corazón;
dichoso de vivir,
en la cabeza había un zorzal,
rimando con las notas
de tus violines tiernos,
de tus guitarras criollas
querido y viejo vals...

Acento suave
que en las noches claras
guirnaldas de ensueños tejió.
Y que es como un ave
batiendo sus alas
por sobre los patios
de la evocación...
Embrujo dulce
de luna y estrellas
mecido por versos de amor...
¡querido y viejo vals,
la tuya es mi emoción!

Acaso ya no soy
aquel que ayer bailó a tu son,
acaso ya no sé
volver a amar como yo amé...
Pregúntenle el motivo
a los quebrados sueños,
a la perdida novia,
a la marchita fe...
¡Mas si oigo tu compás
vuelvo a encender mi corazón!
Si un patio trae a mi
tu grata voz de la amistad,
me abrazo a la nostalgia
de tus violines tiernos,
de tus guitarras criollas,
querido y viejo vals...
English translation
Sentimental song,
song of love and youth;
humble and beautiful flower
of my immortal southern neighborhood.
Dear little waltz
of the first dreams,
of the first bride,
of the blue illusion...
Dancing with your sound
went the feet and the heart;
happy to live,
in the head there was a thrush,
rhyming with the notes
of your tender violins,
of your Creole guitars
dear old waltz...

Soft accent
that in the clear nights
wove garlands of dreams.
And that is like a bird
flapping its wings
over the courtyards
of evocation...
Sweet enchantment
of moon and stars
rocked by love verses...
dear old waltz,
yours is my emotion!

Perhaps I am no longer
the one who yesterday danced to your tune,
perhaps I no longer know
to love again as I loved...
Ask the reason
to the broken dreams,
to the lost bride,
to the withered faith...
But if I hear your beat
I rekindle my heart!
If a courtyard brings to me
your pleasant voice of friendship,
I embrace the nostalgia
of your tender violins,
of your Creole guitars,
dear old waltz...

The Cabeceo