Allons enfants de la Patrie
Le jour de gloire est arrivι.
Contre nous, de la tyrannie,
L'ιtandard sanglant est levι,
l'ιtandard sanglant est levι,
Entendez-vous, dans la compagnes.
Mugir ces farouches soldats
Ils viennent jusque dans nos bras
Egorger vos fils,
vos compagnes. Let us go, children of the fatherland
Our day of Glory has arrived.
Against us stands tyranny,
The bloody flag is raised,
The bloody flag is raised.
Do you hear in the countryside
The roar of these savage soldiers
They come right into our arms
To cut the throats of your sons,
your country.
Aux armes citoyens!
Formez vos bataillons,
Marchons, marchons!
Qu'un sang impur
Abreuve nos sillons.
To arms, citizens!
Form up your battalions
Let us march, Let us march!
That their impure blood
Should water our fields
Amour sacrι de la Patrie,
Conduis, soutiens nos bras vengeurs,
Libertι, libertι cherie,
Combats avec tes defιnseurs;
Combats avec tes dιfenseurs.
Sous drapeaux, que la victoire
Acoure ΰ tes mβles accents;
Que tes ennemis expirants
Voient ton triomphe et notre gloire! Sacred love of the fatherland
Guide and support our vengeful arms.
Liberty, beloved liberty,
Fight with your defenders;
Fight with your defenders.
Under our flags, so that victory
Will rush to your manly strains;
That your dying enemies
Should see your triumph and glory
Aux armes citoyens!
Formez vos bataillons,
Marchons, marchons!
Qu'un sang impur
Abreuve nos sillons.
To arms, citizens!
Form up your battalions
Let us march, Let us march!
That their impure blood
Should water our fields
Proshu potverdit'. Spasibo. Ph.L.
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