Get a place in this bar my friend, right next to us. Submerge yourself in this heavy smoke, kiss insistenciously the glass in a hard drink, untill you blow your blues away. Let your lips feel the compasses of this tango, that from this corner, makes dance all the National street.
Just forget about your city hell, the darkness is chraming right here, your troubles and blues they are sparkling in champagne.
And if you get excited with the whispers, and this guitar's complains in this old cowboy hand's are going to turn you on, feel free to conquer some pair of female legs, those who spill honey when they are dancing. Fall in love for a while at least, it ain't that hard after all, this love is flying whit this tango.
And if you have enthusiastically heard, and you even song out of key, and some spongy hip taught what is the best way, it means you got it my friend, you finally got to know this old port's religion.
This is our port's dogma, with its classic hairdo heroes and its dared virgins, its rithms in the naughty night, and its lyrics that show you the cruel routine, this bitter normality, with twisted cheaters, flesh and humidity heat, owned and stolen myths, who get bored in this bitter feeling, and get dronk in The Cathedral tango bar.
Aldana Argüello poem dedicated to the caffe bar "El Nacional" |