Alfie Boe Che Gelida Manina
How cold your little hand is! will you let me warm it for you? Why bother looking? its dark, and we wont find it. Its our good luck, though, this nights filled with moonlight, Up here the moonlight could rest on our shoulders. Please wait, my dear young lady, and I will quickly tell you Who stands before you, and what I do, How I make my living. may i? Who am i? what am i? I am a poet. What keeps me busy? writing! and what do I live on? nothing! In poverty Im cheerful, I am a prince who squanders Arias and couplets of longing. And as for hopes and dreams of love and castles-in-the-air, Miss, I am a millionaire! My fortress could be broken in, robbed clean of the fine jewels I store; if the theives were eyes like yours. And now that I have seen you, all of my lovely dreaming, All of the sweetest dreams Ive dreamt, quickly have slipped away. This theft does not upset me, because such treasures Mean nothing now that Im rich with sweet hope! And now that you have met me, I ask you please, Tell me, lady, who you are, I ask you please!
