Tango Lyrics in Spanish and English | |||
MADAME YVONNE | |||
Madam Yvonne (1933) | |||
Music by: Eduardo Pereyra | |||
Lyrics by: Enrique Cadicamo | with the orchestra of Leopoldo Federico | ||
Translated by: Alberto Paz | |||
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Last update on: 2/7/06 | |||
Julio
Sosa's rendition of Madam Yvonne is the best to my taste. The late
Uruguayan singer wrote the recited verses that serve as an introduction
to the tango. The word "mamuasel" is a phonetic replication in
Argentine jargon of the original "madmoiselle." He substituted "Les
Quatre Arts" for "aquel boulevard" (that boulevard). Also, in the 7th
verse he sings "Until one day an Argentine man arrived". | |||
Version en castellano | English translation | ||
Mamuasel Ivonne era una pebeta que en el barrio posta del viejo Montmart, con su pinta brava de alegre griseta animó la fiesta de Les Quatre Arts... Era la papusa del barrio latino que supo a los puntos del verso inspirar... Pero fue que un día llego un argentino y a la francesita la hizo suspirar... Madame Ivonne, la Cruz del Sur fue como el sino. Madame Ivonne, fue como el sino de tu suerte... Alondra gris, tu dolor me conmueve, tu pena es de nieve... Madame Ivonne... Han pasado diez años que zarpó de Francia, Mamuasel Ivonne hoy solo es Madam... La que al ver que todo quedó en la distancia con ojos muy tristes bebe su champán. Ya no es la papusa del Barrio Latino, ya no es la mistonga florcita de lis, ya nada le queda... Ni aquel argentino que entre tango y mate la alzó de París | Madmoiselle Ivonne was a young girl that in the choice district of old Montmartre, with her blustery elegance of happy streetwalker animated the partying at Les Quatre Arts. She was the pretty thing of the Latin quarter who used to inspire the verse writers... But it was that one day an Argentine man arrived and to the little French girl he made her sigh. Madame Ivonne, the Southern Cross was like the fate, Madame Ivonne, it was like the destiny of your luck... Gray lark, your pain affects to me, your pain is of snow... Madame Ivonne... Ten years have passed since she weighed anchor from France, Mamuasel Ivonne today is simply Madam... The one who seeing that all was left in the distance with very sad eyes she drinks her champagne. She is no longer the pretty thing of the Latin quarter, she no longer is the humble lily flower, she already has nothing left... Nor even that Argentine man who between tango and green tea picked her up from Paris | ||
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