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Song

A mis pagos voy · José Basso · 1967

José BassoAlfredo Belusi, Carlos RossitangoMusic Hall
Music by Luis Savastano. 2 recordings in our catalogue, 1961–1967.

Pinned at 1967 · Nuevo 1955–1984 · José Basso recordings indexed 1948–1986

The work

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Music
Luis Savastano

Source: TangoCloud catalogue

Recordings

Computed from the catalogue, not yet written by anyone

The catalogue holds 2 recordings of this song by 2 orchestras, 1961 to 1967.

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1960
Recordings of A mis pagos voy · José Basso · 1967 by year, taller the more they are danced · 2 of 2 recordings carry a year · read Nov 1, 2026

Lyrics

Español

Allá a lo lejos, ha quedado mi querencia Mi campo arado, mi tropilla y mi alazán, Y la dulce dueña de unas trenzas negras Con mi promesa de un pronto regresar. Buscando gloria todo aquello he dejado Poniendo leguas a mi rancho de terrón, Pero mi alma nunca lo ha olvidado Cómo olvidarlo, si allí he nacido yo. Y aquí estoy mis lindos pagos, Con tus recuerdos en bandadas Ya lo ves... Mi brioso pingo en su recao plateado, Y enancada y airosa la moza que dejé. Y aquí estoy mis lindos pagos, Entre mil luces, pero sin tu sol Y por eso... ¡Perdonáme Buenos Aires…! Si me alejo de tus calles Y a mis pagos voy. Yo no te niego que tus calles consagraron A mis canciones y mis sueños de cantor, Mas las auroras rojas de mis pagos Ellas templaron mi canto y mi voz. Coda: Y por eso... ¡Perdonáme Buenos Aires...! Si me alejo de tus calles Y a mis pagos voy... Y a mis pagos voy...

English · machine translation

Far away, back there, I left my home, my ploughed field, my herd of horses and my sorrel, and the sweet owner of a pair of black braids with my promise to return soon. Seeking glory, I left all that behind, putting leagues between me and my sod hut, but my soul has never forgotten it — how could it, when that's where I was born? And here I am, my beautiful homeland, with flocks of memories of you, you see... my spirited horse in its silver saddle, and riding behind, graceful, the girl I left. And here I am, my beautiful homeland, among a thousand lights, but without your sun, and that's why... Forgive me, Buenos Aires...! if I leave your streets and go home to my land. I don't deny that your streets crowned my songs and my dreams as a singer, but the red dawns of my homeland were what tempered my song and my voice. Coda: And that's why... Forgive me, Buenos Aires...! if I leave your streets and go home to my land... and go home to my land...

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