He who leaves, succeeds — those who have the courage to leave their hometown, their comfort zone, or their familiar world are the ones who make something of themselves. It is both an encouragement to emigrate and a bitter acknowledgement that Sicily's best often had to leave to find opportunity.
Few proverbs capture the Sicilian soul as precisely as this one. For centuries, Sicily was a land that exported its people — to the Americas in the great emigration waves of the late 19th and early 20th centuries, to northern Italy during the industrial boom of the 1950s and 60s, and today to Germany, England, and Switzerland. The proverb was not born of pride but of painful realism: the island, rich in culture and beauty, could not always feed its children. Families watched their sons and daughters board ships at Palermo or Catania with tears and this phrase — half blessing, half lament. Those who stayed, through loyalty or fear, sometimes watched those who left return years later with money, a car, a different accent. Today young Sicilians still use it, often with irony, when they announce they are moving to Milan or Berlin for work. The proverb carries no resentment toward those who leave — only the quiet knowledge that leaving is hard, and that it takes a particular kind of courage.
One of the most emblematic Sicilian proverbs, deeply tied to the island's history of emigration. Documented in 19th century folk collections. The Sicilian dialect form uses 'cu' (chi), 'nesci' (esce), 'arrinesci' (riesce).
A grandmother saying goodbye to her grandson leaving for the north
— Nonna, mi dispiace lasciarti. — Va', figlio mio. Cu nesci arrinesci. Torna quando sei qualcuno.
— Grandma, I am sorry to leave you. — Go, my son. Cu nesci arrinesci. Come back when you are someone.
Two friends in Palermo, one about to move to Milan
— Ho paura di andarmene. Non conosco nessuno a Milano. — Cu nesci arrinesci. Qui ti conoscono tutti e sei ancora fermo.
— I am scared of leaving. I know nobody in Milan. — Cu nesci arrinesci. Here everyone knows you and you are still standing still.
A father proud of his daughter who moved abroad
Mia figlia è partita a ventitré anni per Londra. Adesso guadagna tre volte quello che guadagno io. Cu nesci arrinesci — lo diceva già mio nonno.
My daughter left at twenty-three for London. Now she earns three times my salary. Cu nesci arrinesci — my grandfather already used to say it.
Bitter reflection of someone who stayed
Tutti quelli con cui sono andato a scuola sono partiti. Io sono rimasto. Cu nesci arrinesci — e io non sono andato da nessuna parte.
Everyone I went to school with has left. I stayed. Cu nesci arrinesci — and I have not gone anywhere.