Fischia Il Vento

The wind whistles, the storm rages
Shoes broken yet one must go
To conquer the red spring
Where the Sun of the future rises

Every district is the rebel's homeland
Every woman gives him a sigh
In the night the stars guide him
Strong the heart and the arm in striking

In the night the stars guide him
Strong the heart and the arm in striking

And if cruel fate strikes us
Harsh revenge will come from the partisan
Now the sad fate of the vile fascist traitor
Is already certain

Now the sad fate of the vile fascist traitor
Is already certain

The wind ceases, the storm calms
The proud partisan returns home
Waving his red flag
Victorious, and finally we are free

Waving his red flag
Victorious, and finally we are free