Corsica, oh my Corsica,
Corsica of a thousand charms,
Corsica of whose fragrance
I can distinguish from France.
I delight in your coat of arms,
with an image the replica
of an emancipated man.
You were my childhood paradise,
in your gardens I played and ran.
Your shores inspired delightful tales
of a land fortified by whales.
Oh Corsica, my Corsica,
I long to inhabit your shores,
to flee Hudson's punitive laws.
There never was a land so dear
as this idyllic island rare.
France did value thee at a price,
and Genoa prospered from thy sale.
Corsica, oh my Corsica,
shall I ever see thee again?
or will my longing be in vain?
Oh, how I love thee Corsica,
heal my protracted home sickness
like a tender loving mistress.