Ry Cooder — Barrio Viejo song lyrics and translation
The page contains the lyrics and English translation of the song "Barrio Viejo" by Ry Cooder.
Lyrics
Viejo barrio, Barrio Viejo.
Solo hay lugares parejos.
Donde un dia hubo casas,
Donde vivio nuestra raza.
Solo quedan los escombros,
De los hogares felizes,
De las alegres familias,
De esa gente que yo quise.
Por las tardes se sentaban,
Afuera a tomar el fresco.
Yo pasaba y saludaba.
Ya parece oigo al lejos.
? Como ha estado, Juanita?
Buenas tardes, Isabel.
Ahora que dices, Chalita.
? Como esta Arturo y Manuel?
Viejo barrio, Barrio Viejo,
Que en mi infancia te goze.
Y con todos mis amigos,
Iba descalzo y a pie.
Desde el Meyer hasta al Oyo,
Desde el Ocho hasta la Secia,
Desde la Secia hasta el rio;
Ese era el mundo mio.
Dicen que eramos pobres,
Pues yo nunca lo note.
Yo era feliz en mi mundo,
De aquel barrio que adore.
Bonitas las serenatas,
A las tres de la manana,
Que le cantaba mi chata,
Pegadito a su ventana.
Por la calle del convento,
La casa destruida,
Quedo como monumento
Pa’l gran amor de mi vida.
Pobrecito viejo barrio.
Como te debe doler,
Cuando en el nombre del progreso,
Te tumban otra pared.
Viejo barrio, Barrio Viejo.
Yo tambien enviejesi.
Y cuando uno ya se hace viejo,
Nadie se acuerda de ti.
Vamonos muriendo juntos.
Que me entieren en tu suelo.
Y seremos los difuntos,
Rodiados de mil recuerdos
Lyrics translation
Old quarter, Old Quarter.
There are only even places.
Where once there were houses,
Where our race lived.
Only the rubble remains,
From happy homes,
Of the happy families,
Those people I loved.
In the evenings they sat,
Outside to get the fresh.
I'd come by and say hello.
It seems I hear far away.
? How you been, Juanita?
Good afternoon, Isabel.
Come on, Chalita.
? How's Arturo and Manuel?
Old quarter, Old Quarter,
May my childhood delight you.
And with all my friends,
I was barefoot and walking.
From the Meyer to the Oyo,
From eight to Secia,
From the Secia to the river;
That was my world.
They say we were poor,
Well, I never noticed.
I was happy in my world,
From that neighborhood I love.
Nice serenades,
Three o'clock in the morning,
That my chata sang to him,
Right next to his window.
Down the Convent Street,
The destroyed house,
I stand as a monument
PA'l great love of my life.
Poor old neighborhood.
How it must hurt,
When in the name of progress,
They knock you down another wall.
Old quarter, Old Quarter.
I envy you, too.
And when you get old,
No one remembers you.
Let's die together.
Let them bury me on your floor.
And we'll be the dead,
Rhodium of a thousand memories