Giacomo Puccini : Si, mi chiamano Mimi from La Boheme


Giacomo Puccini : Si, mi chiamano Mimi from La Boheme

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About 'Si, mi chiamano Mimi from La Boheme'

Artist: Puccini, Giacomo (biography)   (sheet music)
Born:1858 , Lucca
Died:1924 , Brussels
The Artist:Giacomo Antonio Domenico Michele Secondo Maria Puccini (December 22, 1858 - November 29, 1924) is regarded as one of the great operatic composers of the late 19th and early 20th century. His operas include including Madame Butterfly and La Boheme.
Composed:1896
Info:
This aria is from the scene in La bohème when Rodolfo reveals to Mimi that he has fallen in love with her. He asks her to tell him something about her and her life. Mimi's reply begins by telling him she is called Mimi, but her true name is Lucia.

Italian Lyrics

Sì. Mi chiamano Mimì,
ma il mio nome è Lucia.
La storia mia è breve.
A tela o a seta
ricamo in casa e fuori...
Son tranquilla e lieta
ed è mio svago
far gigli e rose.
Mi piaccion quelle cose
che han sì dolce malìa,
che parlano d'amor, di primavere,
di sogni e di chimere,
quelle cose che han nome poesia...
Lei m'intende?
Mi chiamano Mimì,
il perché non so.
Sola, mi fo
il pranzo da me stessa.
Non vado sempre a messa,
ma prego assai il Signore.
Vivo sola, soletta
là in una bianca cameretta:
guardo sui tetti e in cielo;
ma quando vien lo sgelo
il primo sole è mio
il primo bacio dell'aprile è mio!
Germoglia in un vaso una rosa...
Foglia a foglia la spio!
Cosi gentile il profumo d'un fiore!
Ma i fior ch'io faccio,
Ahimè! non hanno odore.
Altro di me non le saprei narrare.
Sono la sua vicina che la vien fuori d'ora a importunare.

English Translation

Yes, they call me Mimi,
but my true name is Lucia.
My story is short.
A canvas or a silk
I embroidery at home and abroad...
I am happy happy and at peace
and my pastime
is to make lilies and roses.
I love all things
that have gentle sweet smells,
that speak of love, of spring,
of dreams and fanciful things,
those things that have poetic names ...
Do you understand me?
They call me Mimi,
I do not know why.
Alone, I make
lunch by myself.
I do not go to church,
but I pray a lot to the Lord.
I stay all alone
there in a white room
and look upon the roofs and the sky
but when the thaw comes
The first sun, like my
first kiss, is mine!
Buds in a vase...
Leaf and leaf I spy!
That gentle perfume of a flower!
But the flowers that I make,
Alas! no smell.
Other than telling you about me, I know nothing.
I am only your neighbor who comes out to bother you.


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