Italian National Anthem

Brothers of Italy, Italy has woken, Bound Scipio's helmet Upon her head. Where is Victory? Let her bow down, For God created her Slave of Rome.

Chorus: Let us join in a cohort, We are ready to die. 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, yes!

We were for centuries downtrodden, 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 unite.

Chorus

Let us unite, let us love one another, For union and love Reveal to the people The ways of the Lord. Let us swear to set free The land of our birth: United, for God, Who can overcome 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

Italian National Anthem Lyrics

Brothers of Italy,
Italy has woken,
Bound Scipio's helmet
Upon her head.
Where is Victory?
Let her bow down,
For God created her
Slave of Rome.


Chorus:
Let us join in a cohort,
We are ready to die.
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, yes!


We were for centuries
downtrodden, 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 unite.


Chorus


Let us unite, let us love one another,
For union and love
Reveal to the people
The ways of the Lord.
Let us swear to set free
The land of our birth:
United, for God,
Who can overcome 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

Italian National Anthem