Che Gelida Manina
Giacomo Puccini
What a Cold Little Hand
What a cold little hand! If you let it warm up.
What's the use of searching? In the dark, you won't find it.
But luckily it's a moonlit night,
And here we have the moon close by.
Wait, miss, I'll tell you in a few words who I am,
Who I am, and what I do, how I live, do you want to know?
Who am I? Who am I? I'm a poet.
What do I do? I write. And how do I live? I live.
In my happy poverty, I squander like a lord
Rhymes and love songs.
For dreams and for castles in the air,
I have a millionaire's soul.
Sometimes everyone steals from my treasure chest
The two thieves: beautiful eyes.
They entered with you just now and my usual dreams,
And my beautiful dreams quickly vanished!
But the theft doesn't sadden me because,
Because hope has taken up residence.
Now that you know me, will you speak?
Oh, speak. Who are you? Please tell me.
