La Bohème

English text examples:

RODOLFO:
   Your tiny hand is freezing.
   Let me warm it up with mine.
   With just a candle,
   No point in looking further.
   But we're in luck, for the moon will  be shining,
   Due any moment to peer through my window.
   Be patient for a little.
   We can talk a while together,
   And heart to heart,
   Share and get to know each other.
   Shall we?

   But how to start?
   I am a poet.
   My occupation?  Writing.
   How do I manage?  Somehow!

   I'm often short of money,
   But I have poems to squander
   Like the lord of the manor.
   In dreams and gorgeous fantasies.
   In castles built of air,
   I am a multi-millionaire.

   Unwarned, I now discover
   That my heart has been plundered
   By two gentle eyes that sparkle.
   My dreams, my treasured jewels,
   Stolen while I stood gazing,
   Goals and idle ambitions
   Gone in a flash of light!

   The loss has been my blessing:
   Replacing the frenzy and fever,
   New hope has taken over.

   But enough of my story!
   Do tell me yours.
   By what name shall I call you?
   I long to hear. . . .

MIMI:
   Well . . . . Those near me say Mimi,
   But my real name is Lucia.
   My story's short and simple.
   With needle, thread and a thimble
   I embroider . . . .
   Quiet amd contented,
   I sew my lilies and budding roses.

   I'm most at home with flowers
   And their magical beauty
   That speaks to me of love,
   Of joy and springtime,
   Of dreaming and the stuff that dreams are made on.
   I suppose some would laugh and call it childish,
   But you wouldn't? . . . .

   I'm often called Mimi,
   Though I can't say why.
   I live alone, and cook my simple supper,
   Attending mass but rarely,
   Yet to our Lord I pray.
   Though alone, not unhappy,
   And from my tiny garret window
   Overlooking Paris
   I see clear sky.

   When ice and snow are thawing,
   When days begin to mellow,
   Mine is the warming kiss of April,
   So tender!
   Mine are the first rays of sunshine!
   I watch as the rose starts to open
   Slowly petal by petal.
   How sweet to breathe the perfume of a flower!
   The flowers I fondly sew,
   My embroidered flowers
   Are dear, but have no fragrance.

   Aside from this, my life is unexciting.
   I am simply a neighbor
   Dropping by to interrupt your writing.

MUSETTA:
   Belle of the town,
   A lady fond of pleasure now and then,,
   I stroll about at leisure.
   Eager, with eyes aglow,
   Men look me up and down,
   Men look me up and down, top to toe.

   The unspoken longing,
   The subtle interplay,
   Like champagne I sip and savor,
   And slowly magnetize the would-be lover,
   Overcome with desire.

   The surging fire, the ignited ember
   Of throbbing fever
   I live to inspire!
   I live to inspire!

   You know as well,
   With so much to remember,
   So many times tormented ---
   However hard you try to stay away,
   However hard you try,
   You will return, come what may.

MIMI:
   For the place that I left at the sound of your voice.
   There I'll return alone
   To my secluded corner
   To weave unscented roses
   With colors made of thread.
   No rancor, only farewell..

   One final favor:
   Go, gather up a few beloved belongings --
   Inside my basket, a locket
   And a golden cross,
   My prayer book as well.
   Whatever else you find,
   Just wrap in a bundle.
   I shall send for it later.
   Also, folded in tissues,
   My pretty little bonnet . . . .

   You may . . . . You may
   Prefer to keep it to remember
   Our love.
   No rancor.  No, no, only farewell.