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Princesa
Joan Manuel Serrat
Princesa
Tú no, princesa, tú no. Tú eres distinta. No eres como las demás chicas del barrio. Así los hombres te miran como te miran. Así murmura envidioso el vecindario. Tú no, princesa, tú no. Tú eres la rosa que fue a nacer entre cardos como revancha a un arrabal despiadado en donde el día se ocupa de echar por tierra toda esperanza. Tú no has de ver consumida, cómo la vida pasó de largo, maltratada y mal querida, sin ver cumplida ni una promesa, le dice mientras cepilla el pelo de su princesa. Tú no, princesa, tú no. Tú no has nacido para pasar las fatigas que yo pasé sacándole el dobladillo a un miserable salario que no alcanza a fin de mes. Tú no, princesa, tú no. Por Dios lo juro: tú no andarás de rodillas fregando pisos, no acabarás hecha un zarrio como tu madre, cansada de quitar mierda y de parir hijos.
Tú saldrás de esta cochambre de muertos de hambre. Ya me imagino la cara de las vecinas cuando aparezcas en limusina a por esta vieja le dice mientras cepilla el pelo de su princesa. Tú no, princesa, tú no: Vuelve temprano... Y la sigue un paso atrás hasta la calle, planchándole con la palma de la mano una arruga que el vestido le hace en el talle. Y, como quien ve a la Virgen subir al cielo, la ve alejarse camino a su primer casting para un anuncio en televisión. La nena vale, la nena estudia danza moderna y declamación.
Princess
Not you, princess, not you. You are different. You are not like the other girls in the neighborhood. That's how men look at you. That's how the neighborhood murmurs enviously. Not you, princess, not you. You are the rose that was born among thorns as revenge to a ruthless suburb where the day is busy destroying all hope. You will not see consumed, how life passed by, mistreated and unloved, without a single promise fulfilled, he says while brushing his princess's hair. Not you, princess, not you. You were not born to endure the hardships that I endured, hemming a miserable salary that doesn't make ends meet. Not you, princess, not you. I swear to God: you will not walk on your knees scrubbing floors, you will not end up a mess like your mother, tired of cleaning shit and giving birth to children. You will leave this squalor of starving people. I can already imagine the faces of the neighbors when you show up in a limousine to pick up this old lady, he says while brushing his princess's hair. Not you, princess, not you: Come back early... And he follows her a step behind to the street, smoothing out a wrinkle in her waist with the palm of his hand. And, like someone watching the Virgin Mary ascend to heaven, he watches her walk away to her first casting for a TV commercial. The girl is worth it, the girl studies modern dance and declamation.
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