The art of being Luciano Pavarotti

Daily Prompt: Life Line

by michelle w. on August 12, 2013

You’re on a long flight, and a palm reader sitting next to you insists she reads your palm. You hesitate, but agree. What does she tell you?

Photographers, artists, poets: show us HANDS.


Luciano’s hands…

Well, I saw the Daily Prompt, but pastors are just not that into palm reading as far as I know. So I took the photo theme in stead. Hands… Luciano Pavarotti’s hand, clutching the white handkerchief…

Why would I think about that?

Because I AM Luciano Pavarotti. And I have to perform his song Mamma in a month’s time. This is proving to be extremely difficult! The notes of this song is all in my range as a bariton.  But I do not understand Italian at all. And the pronunciation of the Italian words proves to be above my grasp at the moment.

This is what I have to get into my memory at the moment:


Mamma son tanto felice
Perche retorno da te
La mia canzone ti dice
Che il pui belgiorno per me
Mamma son tanto felice
Vivere lontano perche

Mamma solo per te
La mia canzone vola
Mamma sarai con me
Tu non sarai piu sola
Quanto ti voglio bene
Queste parole d’amore
Che ti sospira il mio cuore
Force non s’odono piu
Mamma ma la canzone mia
Piu bella sei tu
Sei tu la vita e per la vita non ti lascio mai piu

Sento la mano tua stanca
Cerca i miei reccioli d’or
Sento e la voce ti manca
La ninna nanna d’allor
Oggi la testa tua bianca
Io voglio stringere al cuor…

Beautiful, isn’t it? Yes, some of you can understand these words because you are Italian… Lucky you- beautiful girls and cars (except Fiat!) and thanks for my Aprilia!

It helps if you know the meaning of the words you must sing. And this is what I must convey in the beautiful language:


Mom I am very happy
because I am returning to you
my song is telling you
that it is the most beautiful day for me
mom I am very happy
why should we live apart?

Mom, only for you
my song flies
mom, you will stay with me
you’ll not be alone anymore
how much I love you
these words of love
that my heart is whispering to you
maybe are not longer used

Mom, but my most beautiful song is you
you are my life
and for the rest of my life I’ll never leave you again

I can feel your tired hand
looking for my golden curls
I can hear, and your voice is a whisper
the lullaby of back then
today, your white head
I want to hold tight to my heart.

As you have gathered- No, I am not really the Maestro. We are having a concert at our church fete, and as I look like Pavarotti according to my esteemed colleague, I got the role. There is one consolation- he is Susan Boyle at the concert… so it could be worse…

I still do not know how to post a Youtube link properly… If you would like to see this song that I have been playing for a 1000 times now, go here:

20 thoughts on “The art of being Luciano Pavarotti

  1. Hoop jy verstaan dat ek gelag het…. nie dat jy gaan sing nie; dit is heel indrukwekkend 🙂 Sommer net geniet wat jy geskryf het. Sterkte met daardie woorde!!!!!!!

  2. I was at his 1987 performance – it was amazing. I was friends with the classical music buyer for Tower Records. He took me to the concert, and the Great One appeared at Tower Records to sign records. He used a gold marker. People had started lining up at 6am. He was only supposed to sign for a couple of hours – he stayed till after midnight. He refused to leave until each person got their record signed. He was so kind. Moms were showing pics of their kids who were interested in singing, and many came with older records and photos. He listened to every one and signed everything. Ciao.

  3. Nice to meet you, Luciano…. I love to listen to you … but I went to see you at Albert Hall, London on the 50th Celebration of the end of the end of WWII – cost me a lot of money and you was one of the biggest disappointments that any artist has given me. I don’t think you was feeling well .. you took pills under the conformance, not at all the Pavarotti that I had expect me – but I still love you .. and I listen to your music a couple of times per week.
    And we both love the same tenor …. Jussi Björling.

  4. Pingback: WHEN THERE IS NOTHING LEFT | hastywords

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