Pregonera by José Rótulo

Blonde and ivory princess, she was queen

of my idealistic youthful dreams:

the one who peddled flowers

on an April day,

I remember her on the streets of Paris.

A red rose for you sir,

as red as the longings of love,

white roses and carnations,

white and bright as dreams

the princess goes on calling down the street.

A caress and a carnation

for your lapel, for your love.

The carnation is made of dreams,

my heart of scarlet red.

And the afternoon began to die,

and I’m followed by her cry:

A little caress and a carnation,

the carnation was the only thing left.

Blonde and ivory princess where’d you go?

Where’s your subtle laughter, I’d like to know?

With your flowers’ wilted blooms

my dreams die too.

And I hear the faint echo of your voice.

It is like an endless whisper

that goes on stirring my unease,

it’s the crazy fantasy

that I’m dreaming all over again—

once again I’m happy with your song.

---

José Rótulo (1905 - 1965) Uruguay

Translated by Derek Del Pilar

Source: The Poetry of the Tango