Ariel Ardit — Amarraditos song lyrics and translation
The page contains the lyrics and English translation of the song "Amarraditos" by Ariel Ardit.
Lyrics
Vamos amarraditos los dos
espumas y terciopelo,
tu con un recrujir de almidón
y yo serio y altanero.
La gente nos mira
con envidia por la calle,
murmuran las vecinas,
los amigos y el alcalde.
Dicen que no se estila ya mas
ni mi peinetón ni tu pasador,
dicen que no se estila ya mas
ni mi medallón ni tu cinturón.
Yo se que se estilan
tus ojazos y mi orgullo,
cuando vas de mi brazo
por el sol y sin apuro.
Nos espera nuestro cochero
frente a la iglesia mayor,
y a trotecito lento recorremos el paseo,
yo saludo tocando el ala
de tu sombrero mejor,
y tu agitas con donaire tu pañuelo.
No se estila yo se, que no se estila,
que te ponga para cenar
jazmines en el ojal…
Desde luego parece un juego
pero no hay nada mejor
que ser un señor de aquellos
que vieron mis abuelos.
Nos espera nuestro cochero
frente a la iglesia mayor,
y a trotecito lento recorremos el paseo,
yo saludo tocando el ala
de tu sombrero mejor,
y tu agitas con donaire tu pañuelo.
No se estila yo se, que no se estila,
que te ponga para cenar
jazmines en el ojal…
Desde luego parece un juego
pero no hay nada mejor
que ser un señor de aquellos
que vieron mis abuelos.
(Gracias a Francisco León por esta letra)
Lyrics translation
We're both moored.
foams and velvet,
you with a starch recruit
and I'm serious and loud.
People look at us
with envy on the street,
the neighbors murmur,
friends and the mayor.
They say it doesn't stretch anymore
neither my hairdo nor your hairpin,
they say it doesn't stretch anymore
not my medallion or your belt.
I know that they style
your eyes and my pride,
when you're on my arm
by the sun and without haste.
Our driver is waiting for us
in front of the main church,
and a slow trot along the promenade,
I salute by touching the wing
from your best hat,
and you wave with donaire your handkerchief.
Don't be stilted I know, don't be stilted,
let me get you to dinner.
Jasmine in the buttonhole…
It certainly looks like a game
but there's nothing better
to be a Lord of those
that my grandparents saw.
Our driver is waiting for us
in front of the main church,
and a slow trot along the promenade,
I salute by touching the wing
from your best hat,
and you wave with donaire your handkerchief.
Don't be stilted I know, don't be stilted,
let me get you to dinner.
Jasmine in the buttonhole…
It certainly looks like a game
but there's nothing better
to be a Lord of those
that my grandparents saw.
(Thanks to Francisco Leon for this letter)