I will remind you of the past times
when Palermo was Maldonado
and I worked as a headman
in the great National.
And I’ll recall some details
that always happened in the street,
when with his chain handler
the tram a carter
wanted to pass.
Go on, go on, faster now
to see who climbs the hill first
and proud the driver
would pass the Percheron.
Go on, go on, faster now
and they left behind the poor carter
repeating to the headman
if there’s extra, give me a coin.
I am from yesterday’s Buenos Aires, my friend,
when in the afternoons the lamplighter
with his ladder hurried
to light the section.
Then with his familiar cry, the night watchman
would mark time hour by hour
then the sung bulletin
thus ending
one more day.
Go on, go on, faster now
after all, now the carter’s gone
nor the jokester driver
nor the watchman with his cry.
Go on, go on, faster now
after all, neither does the lamplighter exist
go on and on without stopping
until you make me cry.
