Arise children of the fatherland

The day of glory has arrived

Against us tyranny's

Bloody standard is raised

Listen to the sound in the fields

The howling of these fearsome soldiers

They are coming into our midst

To cut the throats of your sons and consorts

To arms citizens Form your battalions

March, march

Let impure blood

Water our furrows

What do they want this horde of slaves

Of traitors and conspiratorial kings?

For whom these vile chains

These long-prepared irons?

Frenchmen, for us, ah! What outrage

What methods must be taken?

It is us they dare plan

To return to the old slavery!

What! These foreign cohorts!

They would make laws in our courts!

What! These mercenary phalanxes

Would cut down our warrior sons

Good Lord! By chained hands

Our brow would yield under the yoke

The vile despots would have themselves be

The masters of destiny

Tremble, tyrants and traitors

The shame of all good men

Tremble! Your parricidal schemes

Will receive their just reward

Against you we are all soldiers

If they fall, our young heros

France will bear new ones

Ready to join the fight against you

Frenchmen, as magnanimous warriors

Bear or hold back your blows

Spare these sad victims

That they regret taking up arms against us

But not these bloody despots

These accomplices of Bouillé

All these tigers who pitilessly

Ripped out their mothers' wombs

We too shall enlist

When our elders' time has come

To add to the list of deeds

Inscribed upon their tombs

We are much less jealous of surviving them

Than of sharing their coffins

We shall have the sublime pride

Of avenging or joining them

Drive on sacred patriotism

Support our avenging arms

Liberty, cherished liberty

Join the struggle with your defenders

Under our flags, let victory

Hurry to your manly tone

So that in death your enemies

See your triumph and our glory!