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The Marseillaise

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Roget de Lisle, composer of The Marseillaise

 Read the Lyrics

La Marseillaise was composed in one night during the French Revolution (April 24, 1792) by Claude-Joseph Rouget de Lisle, a captain of the engineers and amateur musician. It was performed at a patriotic banquet at Marseilles, and printed copies were given to the soldiers who were marching to Paris. They entered Paris singing this song, and it became a popular marching tune. It was originally called Chant de guerre de l'armee du Rhin (War Song of the Army of the Rhine) but the Parisians called it La Marseillaise because it was sung by the soldiers from Marseilles. (And it's a lot easier to say.) 

The composer himself was not a revolutionary. He wrote the song to encourage the French troops who were fighting France's enemies abroad. But he never supported the Revolution at home.  In fact he spent some time in prison and just barely escaped the guillotine. Ironically his song became the anthem of the revolution, and in 1795, the national anthem.

It was so revolutionary, in fact,  that Napoleon and Louis XVIII both banned it. It was briefly restored after the July Revolution of 1830 but was banned again by Napoleon III. It was not allowed until 1879 and didn't become the official national anthem again until 1946.

French Lyrics 

English Lyrics 

  1

    Allons enfants de la Patrie, 
    Le jour de gloire est arrivé ! 
    Contre nous de la tyrannie, 
    L'étendard sanglant est levé, (bis) 
    Entendez-vous dans les campagnes 
    Mugir ces féroces soldats ? 
     Ils viennent jusque dans vos bras 
    Egorger vos fils et vos compagnes ! 

  1

Arise you children of our motherland, 
Oh now is here our glorious day ! 
Over us the bloodstained banner 
Of tyranny holds sway ! 
Of tyranny holds sway ! Oh, do you hear there in our fields 
The roar of those fierce fighting men ? 
Who came right here into our midst 
To slaughter sons, wives and kin.

 

    REFRAIN 

    Aux armes, citoyens, 
    Formez vos bataillons, 
    Marchons, marchons ! 
    Qu'un sang impur 
    Abreuve nos sillons ! 

CHORUS

To arms, oh citizens ! 
Form up in serried ranks ! 
March on, march on ! 
And drench our fields 
With their tainted blood ! 

 

    Que veut cette horde d'esclaves, 
    De traîtres, de rois conjurés ? 
    Pour qui ces ignobles entraves, 
    Ces fers dès longtemps préparés ? (bis) 
    Français, pour nous, ah ! quel outrage 
    Quels transports il doit exciter ! 
    C'est nous qu'on ose méditer 
    De rendre à l'antique esclavage ! 

 2

Supreme devotion to our Motherland, 
Guides and sustains avenging hands. 
Liberty, oh dearest Liberty, 
Come fight with your shielding bands, 
Come fight with your shielding bands ! 
Beneath our banner come, oh Victory, 
Run at your soul-stirring cry. 
Oh come, come see your foes now die, 
Witness your pride and our glory. 

To arms, etc.. 

    Quoi ! des cohortes étrangères 
    Feraient la loi dans nos foyers ! 
    Quoi ! ces phalanges mercenaires 
    Terrasseraient nos fiers guerriers ! (bis) 
    Grand Dieu ! par des mains enchaînées 
    Nos fronts sous le joug se ploieraient 
    De vils despotes deviendraient 
    Les maîtres de nos destinées ! 

 

  3

Into the fight we too shall enter, 
When our fathers are dead and gone, 
We shall find their bones laid down to rest, 
With the fame of their glories won, 
With the fame of their glories won ! 
Oh, to survive them care we not, 
Glad are we to share their grave, 
Great honor is to be our lot 
To follow or to venge our brave. 

To arms, etc.. 

    Tremblez, tyrans et vous perfides 
    L'opprobre de tous les partis, 
    Tremblez ! vos projets parricides 
    Vont enfin recevoir leurs prix ! (bis) 
    Tout est soldat pour vous combattre, 
    S'ils tombent, nos jeunes héros, 
    La terre en produit de nouveaux, 
    Contre vous tout prêts à se battre ! 

 

  5 

    Français, en guerriers magnanimes, 
    Portez ou retenez vos coups ! 
    Epargnez ces tristes victimes, 
    A regret s'armant contre nous. (bis) 
    Mais ces despotes sanguinaires, 
    Mais ces complices de Bouillé, 
    Tous ces tigres qui, sans pitié, 
    Déchirent le sein de leur mère ! 

 

  6 

    Amour sacré de la Patrie, 
    Conduis, soutiens nos bras vengeurs 
    Liberté, Liberté chérie, 
    Combats avec tes défenseurs ! (bis) 
    Sous nos drapeaux que la victoire 
    Accoure à tes mâles accents, 
    Que tes ennemis expirants 
    Voient ton triomphe et notre gloire ! 

 

  7

    Nous entrerons dans la carrière 
    Quand nos aînés n'y seront plus, 
    Nous y trouverons leur poussière 
    Et la trace de leurs vertus (bis) 
    Bien moins jaloux de leur survivre 
    Que de partager leur cercueil, 
    Nous aurons le sublime orgueil 
    De les venger ou de les suivre 

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