"Rare mix of Museta and Mimí
with caresses from Rodolfo and Schaunard,
was the flower of Paris
that a novel dream brought to the suburb ...
And in the crazy ramble of the cabaret,
to the lullaby of some tango compadrón,
encouraged an illusion:
She dreamed of Des Grieux,
she wanted to be Manon.
Little French lady,
what did you bring, you little bitch,
sentimental and flirty
the poetry of the quartier,
Who would say
that your “griseta” poem
only one stanza would have:
the silent agony
of Margarita Gauthier?
But the cold squalor of the suburb.
enduring the purity of their faith,
without finding her Duval,.
dried her heart the same as a thrush.
And a night of champagne and cocaine,
to the funeral lullaby of a bandoneon,
poor thing, she fell asleep,
the same as Mimí,
the same as Manón."