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French National Anthem – La Marseillaise (version longue) → traduzione in Inglese
•Italiano, Alemanno (Svizzero Tedesco), Arabo, Arabo (altre varietà), Asturiano, Basco (moderno, Batua), Bretone, Catalano, Ceco, Cinese #1, #2, #3, Cinese (Cinese classico), Coreano, Esperanto, Finlandese, Gaelico Irlandese, Galiziano, Gallese, Giapponese, Greco, IPA (Alfabeto fonetico internazionale), Indonesiano, Inglese #1, #2, Karačaj-Balkaro, Latino, Lituano, Olandese, Polacco, Portoghese #1, #2, Rumeno #1, #2, Russo #1, #2, #3, #4, #5, Serbo #1, #2, Spagnolo #1, #2, Tailandese, Tedesco, Tongano, Traslitterazione #1, #2, #3, Turco, Ucraino #1, #2, Veneto, Vietnamita
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Testi originali
French National Anthem – La Marseillaise (version longue)
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
Égorger vos fils, vos compagnes !
Aux armes, citoyens,
Formez vos bataillons,
Marchons, marchons !
Qu'un sang impur
Abreuve nos sillons !
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 !
Aux armes, citoyens,
Formez vos bataillons,
Marchons, marchons !
Qu'un sang impur
Abreuve nos sillons !
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 !
Aux armes, citoyens,
Formez vos bataillons,
Marchons, marchons !
Qu'un sang impur
Abreuve nos sillons !
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 !
Aux armes, citoyens,
Formez vos bataillons,
Marchons, marchons !
Qu'un sang impur
Abreuve nos sillons !
Français, en guerriers magnanimes,
Portez ou retenez vos coups !
Épargnez ces tristes victimes,
À 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 !
Aux armes, citoyens,
Formez vos bataillons,
Marchons, marchons !
Qu'un sang impur
Abreuve nos sillons !
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 !
Aux armes, citoyens,
Formez vos bataillons,
Marchons, marchons !
Qu'un sang impur
Abreuve nos sillons !
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
(couplet pour les enfants 2e)
Enfants, que l'Honneur, la Patrie
Fassent l'objet de tous nos vœux !
Ayons toujours l'âme nourrie
Des feux qu'ils inspirent tous deux. (Bis)
Soyons unis ! Tout est possible ;
Nos vils ennemis tomberont,
Alors les Français cesseront
De chanter ce refrain terrible :
Aux armes, citoyens,
Formez vos bataillons,
Marchons, marchons !
Qu'un sang impur
Abreuve nos sillons !
Traduzione
French National Anthem La Marseillaise
Let’s go, children of the Motherland
The day of glory has arrived!
All the tyranny are against us
Their blood-stained banners arise
Their blood-spattered banners arise
Can you hear now out in the country
Their blood-thirsty soldiers ablare?
They’re coming right into your hands
To cut throats to sons of yours, your women!
To arms, compatriots
Form up your battle corps
March on, march on!
Let blood impure
Onto our furrows pour!
What do they want, this horde of slaves
Of traitors and king conjurors?
For who are these ignoble vile chain
And balls have long been prepared?
Balls and chain have long been prepared
French people, ah, for us! A disgrace!
What outburst it must then arouse!
It’s us they dare to conspire
To drag back to stagnant slavery old days!
To arms, compatriots
Form up your battle corps
March on, march on!
Let blood impure
Onto our furrows pour!
How can it be that foreign cohorts
Would be the law in our lands!
How come that mercenary soldiers
Would shoot at our rebellious lads!
Would shoot at our rebellious lads!
Great God of Mine! With those chained hands
We’d yield ourselves to the yoke
Vile despots would have us provoked
To make them the rulers of our fortune!
To arms, compatriots
Form up your battle corps
March on, march on!
Let blood impure
Onto our furrows pour!
Shake over, tyrants and you, traitors-
Disgrace to all parts of the earth.
Fear, your vile schemes parricidal
Will at last get what they’re worth! (bis)
All here are for a great combat
If our young heroes die
Our land will give us other ones
Ready to put up a fight against you!
To arms, compatriots
Form up your battle corps
March on, march on!
Let blood impure
Onto our furrows pour!
French people in majestic battle force,
Stand up to and then return the blows!
Spare all those victimized soldiers
Who regret fighting against us (bis)
But spare none of bloody despots
No pity on Bouillé’s satraps
Those tigers without any qualm
Would rip open their mother’s bosom!
To arms, compatriots
Form up your battle corps
March on, march on!
Let blood impure
Onto our furrows pour!
The sacred love to our Motherland,
Lead and support our avenging arms
Liberty, Liberty, our Dear
Come on fight by your defenders’ side! (bis)
Under our flags and victory
Will haste to our courageous men
And dying foes will have to face
All your triumph and all of our glory!
To arms, compatriots
Form up your battle corps
March on, march on!
Let blood impure
Onto our furrows pour!
We all will start this same career
When our elders pass away
And we’ll find their ashes in here
And the virtues left over after them (bis)
We care less just to survive them
Than next to them in coffins lie
We’d take the greatest sublime pride
In avenging them and them to follow
May, children, Honour and your Homeland
Forever be your final goal!
Let us always have the souls filled
With the fire that well inspires both (bis)
Let’s all unite! Possible is all
Every vile foe will cease to be
And then the French will cease to sing
This refrain of terrifying awe:
To arms, compatriots
Form up your battle corps
March on, march on!
Let blood impure
Onto our furrows pour!
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Commenti
Russia is waging a disgraceful war on Ukraine. Stai con l'Ucraina!
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