Madame Yvonne   Leave a comment

MADAME YVONNE
Madam Yvonne (1933)
LYRICS by: Enrique Cadicamo
MUSIC by: Eduardo Pereyra
TRANSLATION by: Alberto Paz
Last updated on: 2/15/12
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Sing along with JULIO SOSA with LEOPOLDO FEDERICO

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”.
CASTELLANO
ENGLISH
RECITADO
Ivonne,
yo te conocí allá en el viejo Montmartre,
cuando el cascabel de plata de tu risa
era un refugio para nuestra bohemia
y tu cansancio y tu anemia
no se dibujaban aun detrás de tus ojeras violetas.
Yo te conocí cuando el amor te iluminaba por dentro
y te adoré de lejos, sin que lo supieras
y sin pensar que confesándote este amor
podría haberte salvado.
Te conocí cuando era yo un estudiante de bolsillo flacos
y el París nocturno de entonces
danzaba al espacio en una cascada de luces
el efímero reinado de un nombre,
Mademoiselle Ivonne…
FIN RECITADO

Mamuasel Ivonne era una pebeta
que en el barrio posta de viejo Montmartre,
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 va a 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

RECITED
Yvonne
I met you back in the old Montmartre,
when the silver bell of your laughter
was a haven for our Bohemia
and your tiredness and your anemia
were not drawn behind your dark circles violets yet.
I knew you when love lit you from inside
and I worshiped you from afar, without you knowing
and without thinking that confessing this love
I could have saved you.
I knew you when I was a student of lean pockets
and the Paris night back then
danced into space in a cascade of lights
the brief reign of a name,
Mademoiselle Yvonne …
END RECITED

Yvonne 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 destiny,
Madame Ivonne,
was as the destiny of your luck …
Skylark gray
Your pain moves me,
Your sorrow is of snow …
Madame Ivonne …

It has been ten years since she sailed from France,
Mamuasel Ivonne today is only Madam …
Who sees everything long way away at a 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 has nothing is left … Nor even that Argentine man
who between tango and green tea lifted her from Paris


Copyright (c) Planet Tango 1998-2012 All Rights Reserved

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