Montalcinello, there you stand
Hidden in Val di Merse, where you make
Of Borgo Incanto an ancient myth.
Maria’s golden years,
And the sweet days, with no police.
The State has always denied us
Its fake, glossy support.
But we have shone for millennia,
Without hubs and without irons.
Small, yes, but giants,
Rebels, tipsy, proud and ganzi.
Down there, in the imperialist, hardline center,
They make laws against our land,
As if the tractor brought war.
And so the toil of our fields,
They turn it into missiles and flashes.
But we cry out an alternative,
The Etruscan soul, federal and alive.
A free and equal community.
We stay wild, we stay true,
Native, ancient and proud.
Montalcinello... habibi let’s take back our freedom
