BUENOS AIRES.

Buenos Aires, Queen of the River Plate, Buenos Aires, my beloved homeland, listen to my song, for my life goes with it.

In my hours of fever and revelry, sated with pleasure and madness, I think of you, my homeland, to soothe my bitterness.

Buenos Aires nights, beneath your mantle, joy and tears walk close together. Laughter and kisses, revelry without end, everything is forgotten with champagne.

And as people leave the milonga, a little girl can be heard asking for bread; there is a reason why, in tango, a sorrow always sobs.

And to the grumbling rhythm of the bellows, a wealthy man deceives a woman, and the weeping of the violin paints the local soul.

Buenos Aires, like a beloved woman, when you are far away, you must be loved all the more, and one must say throughout one's life: better to die than to forget you.