This 1942 hit from Lucio Demare and Homero Manzi (the duo behind “Malena”) evokes the ports of Buenos Aires, and Dock Sud in particular, where the Riachuelo flows down banks that in former days were lined with the city’s slaughterhouses. The dock life of La Boca was also the subject of Argentina’s premier Twentieth Century painter, Benito Quinquela Martìn.
A Ship Sails Out Tomorrow
(Tr. Jake Spatz)
YouTube: Lucio Demare with Juan Carlos Miranda
We touch down when we anchor on banks that never change.
A hundred ports regale us with music of the sea.
Girls come up to greet us with sadness in their eyes,
And the slug of every shot-glass always tastes the same.
Here alone, in your harbor, the heart discovers ease.
The bellows’ voice bleeds over the Riachuelo’s breeze.
Let’s dance until the last beat has echoed to its end,
A ship sails out tomorrow, that may not come again.
How nice a feeling,
To dance on terra firma!
At dawn tomorrow,
We have to sail away.
The night’s before us,
I want to see you happy.
Now come on, sweetheart,
What makes you want to cry?
I’ll say your name there,
When faraway I find me.
I’ll have a memory
To tell the rolling sea.
The night’s before us,
I want to see you happy.
Now come on, sweetheart,
What makes you want to cry?
For two months on the ocean, my heart shipped out alone.
Two long months of missing the sounding bandoneón.
The tango is a harbor, where hopes at anchor ride.
In rhythm with its rocking, deep feelings sway inside.
At night, when there’s a moon out, dreaming on the sea,
The rhythm of the waves seems to steal its measure then.
Let’s dance away this tango, I don’t want memories.
A ship sails out tomorrow, that may not come again.
Mañana zarpa un barco (1942)
Music: Lucio Demare
Lyrics: Homero Manzi
Riberas que no cambian tocamos al anclar.
Cien puertos nos regalan la música del mar.
Muchachas de ojos tristes nos vienen a esperar
y el gusto de las copas parece siempre igual.
Tan solo aquí, en tu puerto, se alegra el corazón.
Riachuelo donde sangra la voz del bandoneón.
Bailemos hasta el eco del último compás,
mañana zarpa un barco, tal vez no vuelva más.
Qué bien se baila
sobre la tierra firme.
Mañana al alba
tenemos que zarpar.
La noche es larga,
no quiero que estés triste.
Muchacha, vamos,
no sé por qué llorás.
Diré tu nombre
cuando me encuentre lejos.
Tendré un recuerdo
para contarle al mar.
La noche es larga,
no quiero que estés triste.
Muchacha, vamos,
no sé por qué llorás.
Dos meses en un barco viajó mi corazón.
Dos meses añorando la voz del bandoneón.
El tango es puerto amigo donde ancla la ilusión.
Al ritmo de su danza se hamaca la emoción.
De noche, con la luna, soñando sobre el mar
el ritmo de las olas me miente su compás.
Bailemos este tango, no quiero recordar.
Mañana zarpa un barco, tal vez no vuelva más.