In the land of Italy,
Sadness reigns now,
Duce behind bars
Sighs in solitude.
Africa lost,
And Sicily gone,
Never before
Has such misfortune been seen.
And all the fascists,
Say in fear and pallor:
If only we knew,
What the week brings,
What plans are in store,
And what will they do?
One hears: Maledetto,
Give them a good beating.
Yes, even the king,
This marionette,
Sits quietly in his abode,
Without any joy.
He drinks a martini,
(Now a rarity),
And says: Mussolini,
You deceived me.
There is nothing left,
The whole country is in ruins,
You have given me
A tremendous noose.
Hitler has taken everything
Away from here,
Only the ruins remain,
Emphasized twice.
Yes, I would love
To capitulate,
But Hitler would prevent it,
If I ever dare.
Softly and gently,
A lamentation sounds,
Where is Count Ciano now?
One wonders.
Where is friend Benito,
Hitler’s great man,
Ah, it’s finito,
Every man for himself.
Post-Editing: Daniel Green
Did you notice an error in this transcription or translation, and would you like to send us a corrected version? Or have you created a lyrical translation that captures rhyme and rhythm of the original? Please feel free to send us your version. We appreciate voluntary support for this memorial project, and we regularly review the messages we receive.