Greece: Akapi-mu isa' kkeccia ce arte e' mmali, Me ta travudia-mu in exo azzunnimena. Arte pu ft?sane us? massari, Irtan na g?lune azze mena, Tin isbaj?zzane t'e' ppenz?o makata, Ma I diki-tto isteki preparata, T'ora iv? tarasso ce pao 's to Rria Na toriso probbia pos ti kkundann?i; An en ghiusto na xaso ti ffat?a, Ce addho tutto kkal? na tin god?l. Ce a' tti' ssiro, I x?ra-mu e' nna k?i, Olus o mavros di?valo n'us pi?i, Iv? kameno ip?o, ma e' nna metriso Ola ta loja pu l?une azze mena. O ?stremma e' nna pesi a'tto' Pparadiso; Olu n'us kapso iss'ena. T?a itorune posso var? sti xera, Pu iso k?kkalo ipetti olos ajera. English: My love was little and she is grown, I woke her with my songs, Now these farmers have come To drive her far from me. They are wrong if they believe I don't think about it, But their answers are already prepared. Today I'm going to see the King To see what he thinks: Is it right that I lose the the fruit of my work And that another benefit from that fruit? And if I win my cause, my arm will send All these people to Hell. It burns me but I must measure my words And all they said about me. Lightning must fall in Paradise And burn them all. Then they will see what this arm is worth When the sky falls on their head.