THE DONKEY!!!

Discussion in 'Australian Motorcycles' started by Paul, Sep 6, 2009.

  1. Paul

    Paul Guest

    Italian lyrics

    Fratelli d'Italia,
    l'Italia s'è desta,
    dell'elmo di Scipio
    s'è cinta la testa.
    Dov'è la Vittoria?
    Le porga la chioma,
    ché schiava di Roma
    Iddio la creò.
    CORO:
    Stringiamci a coorte,
    siam pronti alla morte.
    Siam pronti alla morte,
    l'Italia chiamò.
    Stringiamci a coorte,
    siam pronti alla morte.
    Siam pronti alla morte,
    l'Italia chiamò!
    Noi fummo da secoli[1]
    calpesti, derisi,
    perché non siam popolo,
    perché siam divisi.
    Raccolgaci un'unica
    bandiera, una speme:
    di fonderci insieme
    già l'ora suonò.
    CORO
    Uniamoci, amiamoci,
    l'unione e l'amore
    rivelano ai popoli
    le vie del Signore.
    Giuriamo far libero
    il suolo natio:
    uniti, per Dio,
    chi vincer ci può?
    CORO
    Dall'Alpi a Sicilia
    Dovunque è Legnano,
    Ogn'uom di Ferruccio
    Ha il core, ha la mano,
    I bimbi d'Italia
    Si chiaman Balilla,
    Il suon d'ogni squilla
    I Vespri suonò.
    CORO
    Son giunchi che piegano
    Le spade vendute:
    Già l'Aquila d'Austria
    Le penne ha perdute.
    Il sangue d'Italia,
    Il sangue Polacco,
    Bevé, col cosacco,
    Ma il cor le bruciò.
    CORO


    English translation


    Brothers of Italy,
    Italy has awoken,
    with Scipio's helmet
    binding his head.
    Where is Victory?
    Let her bow down,[2]
    For God has made her
    Rome's slave.
    CHORUS:
    Let us join in a cohort,
    We are ready to die.[3]
    We are ready to die,
    Italy has called.
    Let us join in a cohort,
    We are ready to die.
    We are ready to die,
    Italy has called!
    We were for centuries
    Downtrodden and derided,
    because we are not one people,
    because we are divided.
    Let one flag, one hope
    gather us all.
    The hour has struck
    for us to join together.
    CHORUS
    Let us unite and love one another,
    Union and love
    Show the people
    The way of the Lord.
    Let us swear to free
    Our native soil;
    United under God,
    Who can defeat us?
    CHORUS
    From the Alps to Sicily,
    Legnano is everywhere;
    Every man has the heart
    and hand of Ferruccio
    The children of Italy
    Are all called Balilla;
    Every trumpet blast
    sounds the Vespers.
    CHORUS
    Mercenary swords,
    they're feeble reeds.
    The Austrian eagle
    Has already lost its plumes.
    The blood of Italy
    and the Polish blood
    It drank, along with the Cossack,
    But it burned its heart.
    CHORUS
     
    Paul, Sep 6, 2009
    #1
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