Song commentary

&

lyric translation

The story of Tres esquinas

In this song, tango is given a voice and talks evocatively about its origin in Tres Esquinas, a sub district of Barracas, one of Buenos Aires most humble neighbourhoods. Of course, Barracas is where D’Agostino was born too!

Tres Esquinas was actually the name of the station of a train line which no longer exists. The station itself was closed in the middle of the 20th century. The iron viaduct has been covered, as it was cheaper than to dismantle it. Located at the intersection of Montes de Oca and Osvaldo Cruz, Tres Esquinas is close to the Riachuelo, a river which empties into the Rio de la Plata at La Boca and which, years ago, inspired more than one tango.

You probably know by now that love (or mostly the lack of), Buenos Aires and… tango form the most predominant tango themes and Tres Esquinas actually explores all three, making it a vivid evocation of tango’s origins which has the power to make us travel in space and in time…

Read on and you’ll get a feel for where tango came from, a modest neighbourhood (“I am from that borough of humbre rank”), full of life “my gossipy suburb, with the chatter of the blabbermouths and the sweet nothings of the local Don Juan” and quiet at times “I am from that borough that takes its mate in the shade of vine covered arbours”.

Tres esquinas has been translated by Tanguito, Argentine Tango Academy in London. If you feel have any comment or have other interpretations of the lyrics, please feel free to share your opinion, we’d love to hear what you think.

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The song

Tres esquinas lyrics

in Spanish & English

Tres esquinas

Yo soy del barrio de Tres Esquinas,
viejo baluarte de un arrabal
donde florecen como glicinas
las lindas pibas de delantal.
Donde en la noche tibia y serena
su antiguo aroma vuelca el malvón
y bajo el cielo de luna llena
duermen las chatas del corralón.
Three corners

I am from the barrio of the Three corners,
an old bastion of the slums
where pretty chicks in their aprons
blossom like wisteria flowers.
Where on a warm quiet night,
the geranium flower oozes its ancient fragrance
and under a full moon sky,
horse carts doze off in the yards.
Soy de ese barrio de humilde rango,
yo soy el tango sentimental.
Soy de ese barrio que toma mate
bajo la sombra que da el parral.
En sus ochavas compadrié de mozo,
tiré la daga por un loco amor,
quemé en los ojos de una maleva
la ardiente ceba de mi pasión.		 I am from that borough of humble rank,
I am the tango of sentiments.
I am from that borough that takes its mate
in the shade of vine covered arbours.
When I was young, I strutted at every street corner,
I flashed my knife, crazy with love,
and in the eyes of a wretch, I set fire
to the burning fuel of my passion.
Nada hay más lindo ni más compadre
que mi suburbio murmurador,
con los chimentos de las comadres
y los piropos del Picaflor.
Vieja barriada que fue estandarte
de mis arrojos de juventud…
Yo soy del barrio que vive aparte
en este siglo de Neo-Lux.		 There is nothing more beautiful and welcoming
than my gossipy suburb,
with the chatter of the blabbermouths
and the sweet nothings of the local Don Juan.
Old slum, the symbol
of my reckless youth….
I am from that borough that lives cut off
in this century of neon lights.
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