Madame Ivonne

Mamuasel Ivonne was a little girl
in the old Montmartre neighborhood,
with her brave look of a cheerful T-shirt
she animated the party of Les Quatre Arts.
She was the papusa of the Latin quarter
who knew how to inspire the points of the verse...
But it was that one day an Argentine arrived
and made the French girl sigh.

Madame Ivonne,
the Southern Cross was like the sign,
Madame Ivonne,
it was like the sign of your luck...
Grey lark,
your pain moves me,
your sorrow is of snow...
Madame Ivonne...

Ten years have passed since she sailed from France,
Mamuasel Ivonne today is only Madam...
The one who goes to see that everything was left in the distance
With very sad eyes she drinks her champagne.
She is no longer the papusa of the Latin Quarter,
She is no longer the mistonga fleur-de-lis,
nothing is left for her... Nor that Argentinian
who between tango and mate lifted her from Paris