Madrid

Poem by Alfred De Musset Collection Early PoemsThemes CityPeriod 19th century

Madrid, princess of the Spains,
There roam through your thousand plains
Many blue eyes, many black eyes.
The white city of serenades,
There pass along your promenades
Many little feet every evening.

Madrid, when your bulls leap,
Many white hands applaud,
Many scarves are at stake.
Through your beautiful starry nights,
Many long-veiled señoras
Descend your blue staircases.

Madrid, Madrid, I mock
Your slender-waisted ladies
Who wear the narrow slipper;
For I know one in the world
Whom never brunette nor blonde
Were worth the tip of her finger!

I know one, and surely the duenna
Who watches her and combs her hair
Opens her window only to me;
Surely, whoever wants to be set right,
Need only approach her at mass,
Be it the archbishop or the king.

For she is my Andalusian princess!
My amorous one! My jealous one!
My beautiful widow with the long veil!
She is a true demon! She is an angel!
She is yellow, like an orange,
She is lively as a bird!

Oh! when on my idolatrous mouth
She swoons, the madcap,
One must see, in our great struggles,
That body so supple and so fragile,
Like an agile snake,
Flee and slip between my arms!

Now if by chance one asks
What won me such a conquest,
It’s the bearing of my horse,
A compliment on her mantilla,
Then vanilla candies
On a beautiful carnival evening.

Alfred De Musset

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