the italian song

Amme pusate chitarre e tammure
pecchè sta musica s’ha da cagnà
simme brigant’ e facimme paura
e ca scuppetta vulimme cantà
e ca scuppetta vulimme cantà.

E mo cantamm’ ‘sta nova canzone
tutta la gente se l’ha da ‘mparà
nun ce futt d’o Re Burbone [1]
a terra è a nosta e nun s’ha da tuccà
a terra è a nosta e nun s’ha da tuccà.

Tutt’ e païse ra Basilca’
se so’ scetat’ e mo stann’ a luttà
pure a Calabbria mo s’ è arravutat’
e ‘sto nemic’ o facimm’ tremmà
e ‘sto nemic’ o facimm’ tremmà.

Chi ha vist’ o lupo e s’ è mise paur’
nun sape buon qual’ è ‘a ver’tà
o ver’ lup’ ca magn’ e creatur’
è o piemuntese c’avimm’ ‘a caccià
è o piemuntese c’avimm’ ‘a caccià.

Femm’na bell’ ca dat’ lu cor’
se ‘stu brigant’ u vulit’ salvà
nun c’ cercat’ scurdat’v’ o nome:
chi ce fa a guerra nun ten’ a pietà

chi ce fa a guerra nun ten’ a pietà

‘Omm’ s’ nasc’ brigant’ s’ mor’
ma fin’ all’utm’ avimm’ a sparà
e se murimm’ menat’ nu fior’
e ‘na bestemmia pe’ ‘sta libertà
e ‘na bestemmia pe’ ‘sta libertà

[1] A later version of the song has “nui combattim’ p’u Re Burbone” (We fight for the Borubon King), completely changing the meaning of this line. In the same alternate version, the song’s last line is “e ‘na bestemmia pe’ ‘sta libertà” (And a curse for our freedom), but Eugenio Bennato has rejected them, claiming he was not the author of the changed lyrics

We’ve left guitars and drums
because this music has to change
we’re brigands and are frightful
we want to sing with our rifles
we want to sing with our rifles.

Now we will sing this new song
and all people must learn it
we don’t give a fuck about the Bourbon King,
the land is ours and nobody can touch it
the land is ours and nobody can touch it.

Every town in Basilicata
has awakened and is fighting
even Calabria now has risen
let’s make our enemy tremble
let’s make our enemy tremble.

Who sees the wolf and gets scared
doesn’t know the truth
the real child-eating wolf
is the Piedmontese we must kick out
is the Piedmontese we must kick out.

Beautiful women who give your heart,
if you wish to save this brigand
do not look for us, forget our names:
who wages us war has mercy

who wages us war has mercy.

One is born a man, dies a brigand
but we must shoot ’till the end
and if we die, bring a flower
and a curse for our freedom
and a curse for our freedom.