Step forward offspring of our Motherland,
The day of glory is nearby!
Do you feel oppression's dire hand,
See its gory standard raised high?
See its gory standard raised high!
Can you not hear those brutal foemen
Low like cattle on our own farms?
They’re marching right into our arms
To devour our spouses and our children!
Form ranks, you citizens!
Take up your swords and guns!
March now! March now,
Lest blood impure
Should water where we plough![*]
O sacred love of Mother Country,
Guide and support our vengeful hands.
Dearest Freedom, cherished Liberty,
Stand with us who defend our lands!
Stand with us who defend our lands!
Beneath our flags let triumph’s spirit
Rally to your virile cry,
So foemen, as they fall and die,
They shall see your victory, our merit!
Form ranks, you citizens!
Take up your swords and guns!
March now! March now,
Lest blood impure
Should water where we plough!
[*]Working note: the last two lines of the refrain are
capable of two, exactly opposite translations, one
exhorting the citizens to spill the invaders’ blood
to water the furrows of the fields of France, the
other exhorting them to prevent the same impure
blood from polluting those fields! Therefore the
last two lines may be read as I have rendered
them or:
“Let alien blood
Now water where we plough!”















30 old applause
