A mí me llaman “la Bohemiana”, so endivina y comediana. Los cabellos de mi facha bruna son reluzientes color de pruna. Labios color de panĵá, dos codikas a la spalda, me llaman la falaĵá, me ven en cual un que vanda. Este mancebo que viste grizo, mucha moneda por mi desfizo, por una que dice adorarlo, ma que non aze que descorcharlo. Mancebo, debes saver que el coro d’una mujer non s’alcanza con moneda ni con vistidos de seda. Ah! Este viejo me mira tanto, que sus ojadas m’ hazen espanto, mezmo sus dientes él va trikando, quien save lo que está pensando. Non me mires fukará, ni te hagas de el muevo, ni creas ke la pará te puedrá facer mancebo.
They call me “la Bohemiana”— a fortune-teller and a comedian. The hair round my dark-skinned face shines with the color of a plum. Lips the color of fire, two braids down my back, they call me the fortune teller, I am seen as a wanderer This young man dressed in gray spent a lot of money for my undoing - on one who claims to adore him, but does nothing but reject him. Young man, you must know that a woman’s heart cannot be won with money nor with silk garments. Ah! This old man stares at me so, his glances give me fear, even grinding his teeth— who knows what he is thinking? Don’t look at me, poor man don’t pretend you’re something new, don’t believe that this stop can make you young again.
From Ventanas Altas de Saloniki, 2013.
This song in the rhythm of a habanera, presents a coquetish and flirtatious woman who comments on her suitors young and old. This version was partially based on a text by Sadik and Gazoz, printed in a 1924 booklet.
This website was created by Orit Perlman with the collaboration and blessings of Dr. Susana Weich-Shahak in 2025