À Voce Rivolta [English translation]

The river Golu tells

About hours, drops

Of eternity.

The south-western wind

Caresses the baby hours

Of liberty,

The sun gilds

The peaks over there

And my singing

Still calls you.

Corsican land,

Tell me if you can

Hear my torments,

Corsican land.

They are highlanders,

Men rooted here;

From other lands

They are rejected

But they are here,

They are your sons

And even more.

When it’s time

Respond you too,

Corsican people,

For the last time

Tell them that you are

The loud singing.