Napoletano:Oje né', fa' priesto viene!
Nun mme fá spantecá
Ca pure 'a rezza vène
Ch'a mare stó' a mená

Méh, stienne sti bbraccelle,/
Ajutame a tirá
Ca stu marenariello
Te vò' sempe abbracciá

Vicin'ô mare, facimmo 'ammore
A core a core, pe' nce spassá

Só' marenaro e tiro 'a rezza
Ma, p''allerezza, stóngo a murí

Vide ca sbatte ll'onna
Comm'a stu core ccá
De lacreme te 'nfonne
Ca 'o faje annammurá

Viene, 'nterr'a 'sta rena
Nce avimm''a recrijá
Che scenne la serena
Io po' stóngo a cantá

Vicin'ô mare,

Oje né', io tiro 'a rezza
e tu statte a guardá
li pisce, p''a prijezza,
comme stanno a zumpá!

E vide, pure 'e stelle tu faje annammurá
ca stu marenariello,
tu faje suspirá

English:Come on dear, hurry, come here!
Don't make wait and suffer
The fishing net is coming too
That i've cast

Stretch your thin arms
Help me to pull (the net)
That this young sailor
Always wants to hug you

We make love near the sea
Heart to heart, to have fun

I'm a sailor and i pull the net
But I feel like i'm almost dying of happiness

See, the lashing of the waves
Like the beat of this heart of mine
It washes you with tears
Because you make it fall in love (with you)

Come, on this shore
We'll have fun
Here comes the sunset (or the evening)
And I'm here singing

Hey dear, I pull the net
And you stay there and watch
How the fishes for joy
Are jumping

And look, you can make fall in love with you even the stars
This young sailor
You make sigh

Quand au bout d'huit jours, le r'pos terminé,
On va r'prendre les tranchées,
Notre place est si utile
Que sans nous on prend la pile.
Mais c'est bien fini, on en a assez,
Personn' ne veut plus marcher,
Et le cœur bien gros, comm' dans un sanglot
On dit adieu aux civ'lots.
Même sans tambour, même sans trompette,
On s'en va là-haut en baissant la tête.
Adieu la vie, adieu l'amour,
Adieu toutes les femmes.
C'est bien fini, c'est pour toujours,
De cette guerre infâme.
C'est à Craonne, sur le plateau,
Qu'on doit laisser sa peau
Car nous sommes tous condamnés
Nous sommes les sacrifiés
!Huit jours de tranchées, huit jours de souffrance,
Pourtant on a l'espérance
Que ce soir viendra la r'lève
Que nous attendons sans trêve.
Soudain, dans la nuit et dans le silence,
On voit quelqu'un qui s'avance,
C'est un officier de chasseurs à pied,
Qui vient pour nous remplacer.
Doucement dans l'ombre, sous la pluie qui tombe
Les petits chasseurs vont chercher leurs tombes.

English translation :
Craonne Song
When at the end of a week's leaveWe go back to the trenches,
Our place there is so usefulThat without us we'd get a thrashing.But now it’s finished we've had enoughNobody wants to march anymore.And with hearts downcast with sobs,We're saying good-bye to the civilians,
Even without drum or trumpetWe're heading up there with lowered heads.
Good-bye to life, good-bye to love,
Good-bye to all you women,
It's finished, and foreverwe've had it for good with this awful war.It's in Craonne up on the plateau
That we're leaving our skins,'Cause we've all been sentenced to die.
We're the ones that they're sacrificing
A week in the trenches, a week of suffering,
And yet we still have hopeThat tonight the relief will come
That we keep waiting for.Suddenly in the silent night
We hear someone approachIt's an infantry officer
Who's coming to take over from us.
Quietly in the shadows as the rain fallsThe poor soldiers go in search of their graves
Those who’ve got the dough, they will come back'Cause it's for them that we're dying.
Now it’s finished, 'cause all us poor soldiers
Are going to go on strike.
It'll be your turn, fat cats,
To go up onto the plateau.
And if you want war,
Then pay for it with your own skins.
On the grand boulevards it's hard to watch
All the fat cats whooping it up
For them life is good
But for us it's not the same
Instead of hiding, all these shirkers
Would do better by going up to the trenches
To defend what they have, because we have nothing
All of us poor wretches
All our comrades are buried there
Defending the wealth of these gentlemen here