[John Whitworth]

The Spanish Ambassador’s Daughter

The Spanish ambassador’s daughter
has taken the room next to mine.
Oh, honor unending!
The thought of befriending
near-royalty seems near-divine!
I hope that the other girls spot her
conversing with me. What a coup!
Tener amiguita
tan fina, bonita,
y rica...I’ll seem like that, too!

The Spanish ambassador’s daughter
is surely my ticket to fame.
I’m in her good graces,
for cocktail-dress space is
the one thing my closet can claim.
She’ll visit me daily! She’s brought her
vestidos to fill mi armario.
Pues me debe favor,
which is what friends are for,
¿verdad? No quiero oír lo contrario.

The Spanish ambassador’s daughter
is juggling three majors. (Such skill!)
Compared to my neighbor’s,
old Hercules’ labors
were nothing. Through sheer force of will
she carries a courseload to totter
a Kinsey, a Kant, and a Keynes:
la psicología,
la filosofía,
y la economía. What brains!

The Spanish ambassador’s daughter
is juggling three boyfriends as well.
It seems that she studies
with each of these buddies,
and that’s why her grades so excel.
Yet none of her trio has caught her
off guard, at that breathtaking pace:
la cena con Uno;
con Dos, el desayuno;
y siempre el almuerzo con Trés.

The Spanish ambassador’s daughter
can ransack my closet whenever.
(It’s now her dominion.)
She’ll ask my opinion
of this or that outfit, but never
can chat, because someone has bought her
a ticket to something—a show...
un baile...un juego...
Con <<Bien...¡hasta luego!>>
se va. We’re like sisters, you know.

The Spanish ambassador’s daughter
is making me feel a bit steamed.
I thought she would take me
to parties and make me
accepted in circles I’d dreamed
of moving in. Really, I thought her
affection would have to be worth
un puño de joya,
mas se desarolla
así: I’ve a fistful of earth.

The Spanish ambassador’s daughter
got kicked out of college this week!
It seems that her smitten
young novios had written
her midterm exams. She would speak
not a word when she came by and got her
lamés. (Adiós, Tutankhamen!)
Su crimen...¡profundo!
¡Subirse en el mundo
por otros! We’d nothing in common.

[John Whitworth]

Of all the poems I read this one reminds me most acutely of my testy Victorian hero William Schwenk Gilbert. If Sullivan were alive he’d come up with one of his tunes. Of course – as far as I know – neither of them had the Spanish, though Gilbert made a bit of Italian go a long way in The Gondoliers.

I don’t have the Spanish either so I have to guess at these bits, though most of it really isn’t too hard to guess and we oold peple need a bit of a challenge to keep our brains in order. It’s a matterof the synapses firing, don’t you know?

I think the turn, if that’s what you call it, in’I’d dreamed/ of moving in’ is a tad awkward. I’ve tried to imagine singing it and I think it would be difficult. Janet, we need your expert opinion on this.

It is quite LONG for a bit of light verse, but it trips along so aweetly that I can forgive it getting onto a third page. What it has is CHARM. It is charming. That counts for much. Or I think so.

PS I haven't got the italics in. I'll come back and fix that.

[Janet Kenny]

Leonard Bernstein could have set it and that wonderful performer Patti Lupone could do it:

http://www.dating72.com/xem_phim_onl...eo/ms9-9BDOAQQ

Hope that works.

[Michael Cantor]

Did Stephen Sondheim enter? This is wonderful - my favorite. Have to leave now - will be back to comment more. Hooray.

(One nit - many of the Spanish phrases should be in italics. Check it out, John - the italics may have been lost in transmission.)

[Susan McLean]

This looks like a lot of fun for those who know Spanish. I like the English parts very much and I can make some guesses at the contents of the Spanish parts, but I don't know how to pronounce them, so I can't really hear the meter in my head when I get to those parts. I am also missing some of the jokes. The English parts are handled very well, and I can pick up the arc of the story, even if I feel a bit left out.

Susan

[Max Goodman]

A lot of fun. More Praed than Gilbert, I think.

[Petra Norr]

Apologies to the poet, but this is so bad that's it's almost funny. The meter is a disaster. The strange enjambments, the poor sense of line and poor pacing destroy the anapestic flow and instead create a halting, stuttering one.
I don't mind the Spanish phrases, though of course it makes me wish I knew Spanish. The story doesn't charm me, unfortunately, so there isn't much to make up for the technical problems.
I have absolutely no idea who wrote this, but I'm sure they're capable of better.

[Maryann Corbett]

I like this a lot. I get the basic meter of the song (for it's a song at heart) in the first stanza, and after that I'm completely willing to promote and demote as needed, and I didn't find much need. The songness explains why "integrity of line" is beside the point and enjambments are not a worry.

I have only a year of high school Spanish from forty years ago; that's all one needs. It's got a story, and it's got the basic human foibles that light verse requires.

[Catherine Chandler]

What Petra said. This goes over like a lead balloon.

[Janice D. Soderling]

I read it as a song lacking only its score. Whoever dun it, pls write the entire operetta and send me tickets for opening night. Center orchestra, please. Remember, I believed in you when no one else did. (Well, anyway I like it more than anyone else so send me the free tickets.)