Yupanqui was born Héctor Roberto Chavero Haram in Pergamino (Buenos Aires Province), in the Argentine pampas, about 200 kilometers away from Buenos Aires. His family moved to Tucumán when he was ten. In a bow to two legendary Incan kings, he adopted the stage name Atahualpa Yupanqui, which became famous the world over.
In his early years, Yupanqui travelled extensively through the northwest of Argentina and the Altiplano studying the indigenous culture. He also became radicalized and joined the Communist Party of Argentina. In 1931, he took part in the failed uprising of the Kennedy brothers and was forced to seek refuge in Uruguay. He returned to Argentina in 1934.
In 1935, Yupanqui paid his first visit to Buenos Aires; his compositions were growing in popularity, and he was invited to perform on the radio. Shortly thereafter, he made the acquaintance of pianist Antonieta Paula Pepin Fitzpatrick, nicknamed "Nenette", who became his lifelong companion and musical collaborator under the pseudonym "Pablo Del Cerro".
Because of his Communist Party affiliation (which lasted until 1952), his work suffered from censorship during Juan Perón's presidency; he was detained and incarcerated several times. He left for Europe in 1949. Édith Piaf invited him to perform in Paris in June of that year. He subsequently toured extensively throughout Europe.
In 1952, Yupanqui returned to Buenos Aires. He broke with the Communist Party, which made it easier for him to book radio performances.
Recognition of Yupanqui's ethnographic work became widespread during the 1960s, and nueva canción artists such as Mercedes Sosa recorded his compositions and made him popular among the younger musicians, who referred to him as Don Ata.
Yupanqui alternated between houses in Buenos Aires and Cerro Colorado, Córdoba province. During 1963-1964, he toured Colombia, Japan, Morocco, Egypt, Israel, and Italy. In 1967, he toured Spain, and settled in Paris. He returned regularly to Argentina, but these visits became less frequent when the military dictatorship of Jorge Videla came to power in 1976.
Yupanqui died in Nimes, France in 1992 at the age of 84; he was buried in the Cerro Colorado Cementery.
Milonga del solitario
Atahualpa Yupanqui Lyrics
Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴ Line by Line Meaning ↴
perderme en un bordoneo
porque bordoneando veo
que ni yo mesmo me mando.
Las cuerdas van ordenando
las rumbas del pensamiento.
Y en el trotecito lento
de una milonga pampera,
lo mejor del sentimiento.
Ninguno debe pensar
que vengo en son de revancha
No es mi culpa si en la cancha
tengo con que galopear.
El que me quiera ganar
ha'i tener buen parejero.
Yo me quitaré el sombrero
porque así me han enseña'o
y me doy par bien paga'o
dentrando atrás del primero.
Siempre bajito he canta'o
porque gritando no me hallo.
Grito al montar a caballo
si en la caña me he vendeao.
Pero tratando un verseao
ante de cuenten quebrantos,
apenas mi voz levanto
para cantar despacito.
Que el que se larga a los gritos
no escucha su propio canto,
Si la muerte traicionera
me acogota a su palenque
háganme con dos rebenques
la Cruz pa mi cabecera.
Si muero en mi madriguera
mirando los horizontes
no quiero Cruces, ni aprontes,
ni encargos para el Eterno.
Tal vez pasando el invierno
me de sus flores el monte.
Toda la noche he cantado
con el alma estremecida.
Que el canto es la abierta herida
de un sentimiento sagrado.
A naide, tengo a mi lado
porque no busco piedad.
Desprecio la caridad
por la vergüenza que encierra.
Soy como el león mi sierra:
vivo y muero en soledad.
The Milonga Del Solitario is a musical composition by Atahualpa Yupanqui that features lyrics that are insightful and thought-provoking, allowing the listener to interpret the song in different ways. At first glance, the song appears to be an ode to the simple pleasure that can be had from losing oneself in a dance or musical performance. The opening lines speak to the cathartic release that can be found in "bordoneando" or getting lost in the music. The singer notes that when "bordoneando" he loses control and is led by the music's rhythm, allowing his thoughts to flow more freely.
The rest of the song is dominated by imagery related to riding horses, with references to horses and riders galloping across "la cancha" or the field. This leads to thoughts about competition and winning, and the horse - or "parejero" - one needs to come out victorious. The singer recognizes their own abilities and notes that they will doff their hat for the victor but they will strive to be the winner themselves.
The last stanza shifts into a more solemn tone, with the singer accepting their eventual death, and requesting to be buried according to their wishes, without any fuss or religious ceremony. Despite the loneliness that has been referenced throughout the song, the singer remains resolute, with the final line emphasizing their solitary nature, stating that they "live and die in solitude" like the lion in their "sierra".
Line by Line Meaning
Me gusta de vez en cuando perderme en un bordoneo porque bordoneando veo que ni yo mesmo me mando.
I enjoy getting lost in the rhythm of the bordoneo because it frees me from my own control and allows me to simply let go and go with the flow.
Las cuerdas van ordenando las rumbas del pensamiento. Y en el trotecito lento de una milonga pampera, va saliendo campo afuera lo mejor del sentimiento.
The strings are guiding the movements of my thoughts and emotions, and as I slowly dance the milonga pampera, my deepest feelings start to emerge and expand out into the open fields.
Ninguno debe pensar que vengo en son de revancha. No es mi culpa si en la cancha tengo con que galopear. El que me quiera ganar ha'i tener buen parejero.
I don't come here seeking revenge or competition, I'm simply confident in my abilities and I hope my partner is up for the challenge if they want to try and beat me.
Yo me quitaré el sombrero porque así me han enseña'o y me doy par bien paga'o dentrando atrás del primero.
It's only respectful to tip your hat to your competitors when they win, and even if I come in second, I'm still satisfied with a job well done.
Siempre bajito he canta'o porque gritando no me hallo. Grito al montar a caballo si en la caña me he vendeao. Pero tratando un verseao ante de cuenten quebrantos, apenas mi voz levanto para cantar despacito. Que el que se larga a los gritos no escucha su propio canto.
I prefer to sing softly because I don't feel comfortable shouting, except when I'm rounding up cattle on horseback. But when I'm singing a heartfelt verse, I only raise my voice slightly because I believe that those who shout can't truly hear their own song.
Si la muerte traicionera me acogota a su palenque háganme con dos rebenques la Cruz pa mi cabecera. Si muero en mi madriguera mirando los horizontes no quiero Cruces, ni aprontes, ni encargos para el Eterno. Tal vez pasando el invierno me de sus flores el monte.
If I die in battle, I want to be buried with two whips symbolizing my life as a gaucho. But if I die peacefully in my home gazing at the horizon, I don't want any religious symbols or ceremonies, just a simple resting place where nature can honor me in its own way.
Toda la noche he cantado con el alma estremecida. Que el canto es la abierta herida de un sentimiento sagrado. A naide, tengo a mi lado porque no busco piedad. Desprecio la caridad por la vergüenza que encierra. Soy como el león mi sierra: vivo y muero en soledad.
I've been singing all night with a deeply emotional soul, because singing is the raw wound of a sacred feeling. I don't need anyone to be by my side because I'm not looking for pity, and I refuse charity because it comes with its own shame. I'm like the mountain lion in my lands: I live and die in solitude.
Contributed by Aaliyah O. Suggest a correction in the comments below.
@derremate3231
Me gusta, de vez en cuando,
perderme en un bordoneo,
porque bordoneando veo,
que ni yo mismo me mando.
Las cuerdas van ordenando,
los rumbos del pensamiento,
y en el trotecito lento
de una milonga campera,
va saliendo campo ajuera,
lo mejor del sentimiento.
Ninguno debe pensar,
que vengo en son de revancha.
No es mi culpa si en la cancha,
tengo con qué galopear.
El que me quiera ganar,
hai' tener buen parejero.
Yo me quitaré el sombrero,
porque así me han enseñao,
y me doy por bien pagao,
dentrando detrás del primero.
Siempre bajito he cantao,
porque gritando no me hallo.
Grito al montar a caballo,
si en la caña me he bandeao.
Pero tratando un versiao,
ande se cuenten quebrantos,
apenas mi voz levanto
para cantar despacito.
Que el que se larga a los gritos,
no escucha su propio canto.
[ Si la muerte traicionera,
me acogota a su palenque,
háganme con dos rebenques,
la cruz pa' mi cabecera.
Si muero en mi madriguera,
mirando los horizontes,
no quiero cruces ni aprontes,
ni encargos para el Eterno.
Tal vez pasando el invierno,
me de sus flores el monte. ]
Toda la noche he cantau,
con el alma estremecida,
que el canto es la abierta herida,
de un sentimiento sagrau.
A naides tengo a mi lau,
porque no busco piedad.
Desprecio la caridad,
por la vergüenza que encierra.
Soy como el lión de las sierras:
¡ vivo y muero en soledad ¡.
@lamingojohnsoniv5150
Every now and then
I enjoy strumming the strings,
because strumming I realize
that I don’t even control myself.
The strings start organizing
the course of my thoughts
and in the slow trot
of a countryside milonga,
the best feelings
make it into the open field.
No one should think,
that I come in the role of revenge.
It’s not my fault if on the field
I’m able to gallop.
Whoever wants to beat me,
should be a fast horse
I’ll take my hat off,
because that’s how I’ve been taught,
and I’ll consider myself well paid
behind first place.
I’ve always sung softly,
because screaming I am lost.
I yell when I ride my horse,
if somehow I’ve become destitute.
But trying out rhymes,
griefs are told,
I barely raise my voice,
to sing softly.
For those who start yelling,
don’t hear their own singing.
If the treacherous death,
chokes me in her ring,
make my cross
with two whips.
If I die in a burrow,
looking at the horizons,
I don’t want any problems,
or demands for the Eternal.
Maybe after winter,
she’ll give me her flowers on the hill.
All night I have sung,
with my soul torn,
the song is the open wound
of a sacred sentiment.
I don’t have anyone by my side,
because I’m not looking for pity.
I despise charity,
for the shame that confines me.
I am like the lion of the sierras,
I live and die on my own!
English translations according to some random site off google.
@talesc.6406
Me gusta de vez en cuando
perderme en un bordoneo
porque bordoneando veo
que ni yo mesmo me mando.
Las cuerdas van ordenando
las rumbas del pensamiento.
Y en el trotecito lento
de una milonga pampera,
va saliendo campo afuera
lo mejor del sentimiento.
Ninguno debe pensar
que vengo en son de revancha
No es mi culpa si en la cancha
tengo con que galopear.
El que me quiera ganar
ha'i tener buen parejero.
Yo me quitaré el sombrero
porque así me han enseña'o
y me doy par bien paga'o
dentrando atrás del primero.
Siempre bajito he canta'o
porque gritando no me hallo.
Grito al montar a caballo
si en la caña me he vendeao.
Pero tratando un verseao
ante de cuenten quebrantos,
apenas mi voz levanto
para cantar despacito.
Que el que se larga a los gritos
no escucha su propio canto,
Si la muerte traicionera
me acogota a su palenque
háganme con dos rebenques
la Cruz pa mi cabecera.
Si muero en mi madriguera
mirando los horizontes
no quiero Cruces, ni aprontes,
ni encargos para el Eterno.
Tal vez pasando el invierno
me de sus flores el monte.
Toda la noche he cantado
con el alma estremecida.
Que el canto es la abierta herida
de un sentimiento sagrado.
A naide, tengo a mi lado
porque no busco piedad.
Desprecio la caridad
por la vergüenza que encierra.
Soy como el león mi sierra:
vivo y muero en soledad.
@ignrey
Every now and then
I enjoy strumming the strings,
because strumming I realize
that I don’t even control myself.
The strings start organizing
the course of my thoughts
and in the slow trot
of a countryside milonga,
the best feelings
make it into the open field.
No one should think,
that I come in the role of revenge.
It’s not my fault if on the field
I’m able to gallop.
Whoever wants to beat me,
should be a fast horse
I’ll take my hat off,
because that’s how I’ve been taught,
and I’ll consider myself well paid
behind first place.
I’ve always sung softly,
because screaming I am lost.
I yell when I ride my horse,
if somehow I’ve become destitute.
But trying out rhymes,
griefs are told,
I barely raise my voice,
to sing softly.
For those who start yelling,
don’t hear their own singing.
If the treacherous death,
chokes me in her ring,
make my cross
with two whips.
If I die in a burrow,
looking at the horizons,
I don’t want any problems,
or demands for the Eternal.
Maybe after winter,
she’ll give me her flowers on the hill.
All night I have sung,
with my soul torn,
the song is the open wound
of a sacred sentiment.
I don’t have anyone by my side,
because I’m not looking for pity.
I despise charity,
for the shame that confines me.
I am like the lion of the sierras,
I live and die on my own!
@claudiamartinez8227
Tengo a mi padre enfermo de alzheimer, desde siempre el ha escuchado Atahualpa. Su enfermedad esta muy avanzada, ya no nos recuerda a nosotros, sus hijos. Le pusimos esta canción y lloro mucho, yo creo se vinieron muchos recuerdos a su mente. Muy hermosa música.
@tiburon6556
Qué horrible esa enfermedad, pero me alegró que su papá tenga algunas neuronas activas, que le permiten emocionarse con este gran intérprete. Ojalá sirvan como estímulo.
@luisargentino9628
A mi mamá le hacíamos lo mismo
Ella decía ay que lindo y volvía a la realidad
@AldoKoskettimet
la música queda registrada en una parte de la memoria auditiva que es imborrable, es permanente.
@tupacmurci1960
Solo no lo dejen como el león de la sierra, amigo.
@analu0604
Forza desde el Brasil. Estamos con usted y Eu padre! 😘
@RedSparkler
Mi padre se suicido con un revolver en agosto del 2020 Hoy, varios meses después, lo recuerdo con esta canción especial que escuchaba con él cuando era una nena. Te amo y te extraño Martín Hausemer
@manuelalonsorivera1595
Mucha fuerza, aquellos que se nos fueron vivirán en nuestros corazones, te mando un fuerte abrazo.
@neftohernandez649
Destino trágico el de aquellos q vemos el mundo con otros ojos, lo bueno q siempre encontramos otro camino
@gabrielfernandez7841
Mucha fuerza desde Uruguay!