EL
CHOCLO.

With this tango, mocking and swaggering, the ambition of my suburb tied on two wings; with this tango, tango was born, and like a cry it rose from the grim muddy outskirts seeking the sky; a strange spell of love made into cadence that opened paths with no law but hope, a mixture of rage, of pain, of faith, of absence, weeping in the innocence of a playful rhythm.

Through your miracle of prophetic notes the girls and the women were born unawares, moonlight in puddles, canyengue in the hips, and a fierce yearning in the way of loving...

As I recall you, beloved tango, I feel the tiles of a dance hall tremble and hear the grumbling of my past... Now that I no longer have my mother, I feel her come on tiptoe to kiss me when your song is born to the sound of a bandoneon.

Carancanfunfa put to sea beneath your flag and in a glass of Pernod mingled Paris with Puente Alsina. Sad companion of the lover and his girl, and even confidante of the well-off man and the young woman. Through you, dandy, cop, street rogue and poverty became voices born with your destiny... A mass of skirts, kerosene, slash and knife, that burned in the tenement houses and burned in my heart.