Even the birds sing in Italian

After listening to the lilt of Italian for a week, perhaps even learning a few new words, everything begins to sound like Italian--from the washing machine in our apartment to the blackbirds and doves flying over Orvieto's medieval alleyways. Mary, a fellow American tourist from Philadelphia, agreed with me, lending me the title of this post.

This lyrical language might be the only world tongue that was purposely invented to unite dozens of competing local dialects. It didn't just happen over time. An Italian creation born from the poetry of Renaissance masters like Dante, Petrarch, and Boccaccio, it could have been based on the cadences of the country's birds, too. But it also isn't hard to imagine that these creatures simply can't help imitating the speech patterns of Umbria.

Italian birdsong

I know French and Spanish far better than Italian. And because I've worked for years on music appreciation textbooks, my Italian is based largely on music directions, such as fortissimo, fermata, crescendo, and the like. This is not a recommended way to make yourself understood in Italian. I must have puzzled a local shop owner terribly when I asked when he was "fermata" (closed). The correct word is chiuso. God only knows what I really said. This is an important question to ask, though, because many shops close for a riposo, a civilized two- or three-hour southern European afternoon siesta that would horrify any respectable American business.

Opera lyrics are a bit more helpful, but in a similarly skewed way. Thanks to Mozart's opera Don Giovanni, I can now ask someone to give me their hand and come along with me, that our destination is not far.

"Give me your hand, dearest" from Don Giovanni

I'm a bit hesitant to use this, however, because the lyrics come from a classic seduction scene in the opera. I'd probably be better off announcing that you invited me to dinner, and here I am, dammit, from the same opera. (Don't ask. It's a long story.)

"You invited me to dinner; here I am!" from Don Giovanni

Every girl should know how to admit, like Violetta in Verdi's La traviata, "Ah, perhaps he is the one!"

"Perhaps he's the one" from La traviata

And any sensitive guy should be able to tell his Italian date what cold little hands she has and that he would be happy to warm them for her. Guys who try this should first determine that their date knows nothing about Puccini or La boheme, however. Otherwise, they're busted.

"What cold little hands" from La boheme

By the way, if you're wondering why an Austrian composer who also wrote Die Zauberflote would create an opera with Italian lyrics, the librettist was an Italian, Lorenzo da Ponte. There may be other reasons.  I'm open to finding them out, but Google failed me.