Va Pensiero

Go, thought, on wings of gold
Go, settle upon the slopes and the hills
Where warm and soft
The sweet airs of our native land smell!

Greet the banks of the Jordan
And Zion's toppled towers
Oh, my country so beautiful and lost!
Oh, remembrance so dear and so fatal!

Golden harp of the prophetic bards
Why do you hang mute upon the willow?
Rekindle the memories in our hearts
Tell us about the time that has gone by!

O similar to the fate of Solomon
Bring forth a sound of harsh lament
Oh! May the Lord inspire you to a harmony
That may instill virtue to our suffering!

That may instill in our suffering
In our suffering, virtue
That may instill in our suffering
In our suffering, virtue

In our suffering, virtue!