Song of the last partisans; Franco Fortini

On the bridge’s parapet

The heads of the hanged

In the flowing rivulet

The spittle of the hanged.

On the cobbles in the market-places

The fingernails of those lined up and shot

On the dry grass in the open spaces

The broken teeth of those lined up and shot.

Biting the air, biting the stones

Our flesh is no longer human

Biting the air, biting the stones

Our hearts are no longer human.

But we have read into the eyes of the dead

And shall bring freedom on the earth

But clenched tight in the fists of the dead

Lies the justice to be served.

—poem by Franco Fortini, translated by Stephen Sartarelli