Hymn
Onward, sons of the Fatherland,
The day of glory has arrived.
Against us, tyranny
The bloody flag was raised.
The bloody flag was raised.
Hear fields
Roar these fierce soldiers?
They come to our arms
Behead our children, our women.
To arms, citizens!
Form up in serried ranks!
March, march!
What an impure blood
Ague our plow
What does this horde of slaves
traitors, plotting kings?
For those who (are) these vile barriers
These bonds have long prepared?
These bonds have long prepared?
French! To you, ah! that outrage!
That should cause a commotion!
It is us who consider
return to the old slavery!
What! These foreign troops
Would make laws in our home!
What! These mercenary phalanxes
Devastate our noble warriors
Devastate our noble warriors
Great God! By chained hands
Our brows would bend beneath the yoke
And vile despots would become
The masters of our fate!
Tremble, tyrants! and you, traitors,
The shame of all parties,
Tremble! your projects parricidal
Will finally pay the price!
Will finally pay the price!
We are all soldiers to fight you.
If our young heroes tumble
The land produces the new
Against you, you all ready to win!
French, magnanimous warriors,
Take your shots or hold fast!
Spare these sad victims
Reluctantly arming against us.
Reluctantly arming against us.
But these bloodthirsty despots
But the accomplices of Bouillé,
All tigers who mercilessly
Rend the bosom of their mothers!
Sacred Love for the homeland
Leads, sustains us vengeful arms.
Freedom, freedom dear,
Fight with your defenders!
Fight with your defenders!
Under our flags, let victory
Soon arrive at your manly voice!
That your dying enemies
See your triumph and our glory to us.
We will battle on
When our elders are not there anymore.
There we find his ashes
And the remnant of his virtues!
And the remnant of his virtues!
Much less willing to survive them
What to share their casket,
We will have the sublime pride
From the revenge or the next.
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