La Marseillaise, originally Chant de guerre pour l'Armée du Rhin ("War Song for the Army of the Rhine"), is a French revolutionary song, which has been the national anthem of France since 1795, with an intermittent period of different anthems from 1799 to 1879. It was composed by officer Claude Joseph Rouget de Lisle in 1792, from the Strasbourg division, as a revolutionary song. The song gained great popularity during the French Revolution, especially among the army units of Marseille, becoming known as The Marseillaise.
The song had immediate success and in a short time, through travelers, it reached Provence, in the southeast of France. A month later, the song arrived in Paris with the Marseilles federated soldiers, who sang it throughout the journey. Since then, it has become associated with the city of Marseille. On August 4, the Paris newspaper La Chronique evoked the song of the Marseillais, and six days later it would be sung during the famous storming of the Tuileries Palace.
In 1795, it was established by the National Convention as the French national anthem. Napoleon Bonaparte and Louis XVIII banned the Marseillaise during the Empire and the Second Restoration respectively, due to its revolutionary character. The revolution of 1830 reestablished its status as a national anthem, and was even reorchestrated by Hector Berlioz in the 1830s. However, Napoleon III banned the song again until, in 1879, with the establishment of the Third Republic, the song was definitively confirmed as the French national anthem, an act reaffirmed in the 1946 and 1958 constitutions.
The song has had several modifications throughout history. In 1793, a royalist and Girondin version of the song was created, called "La Contre Marseillaise" (The Against Marseillaise). In 1871, the Paris Commune composed a version with altered lyrics along the lines of the Commune, and was called "La Marseillaise de la Commune" (The Marseillaise of the Commune). This version was adopted by socialist movements in other countries, especially the Chilean version called "Marsellesa Socialista" (Socialist Marseillaise).
In the Russian Revolution of 1917, revolutionaries adopted a provisional anthem for Russia called "Рабочая Марсельеза" (Rabochaya Marsel'yeza) (The Workers' Marseillaise), which lasted from October 1917 to mid-1918, and which had an adaptation of the Marseillaise melody.
La Marseillaise | ||
♦ AUDIO ♦
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♦ LYRICS ♦
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 !
Formez vos bataillons, Marchons, marchons ! Qu'un sang impur Abreuve nos sillons !
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 !
Formez vos bataillons, Marchons, marchons ! Qu'un sang impur Abreuve nos sillons !
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 !
Formez vos bataillons, Marchons, marchons ! Qu'un sang impur Abreuve nos sillons !
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 !
Formez vos bataillons, Marchons, marchons ! Qu'un sang impur Abreuve nos sillons !
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 !
Formez vos bataillons, Marchons, marchons ! Qu'un sang impur Abreuve nos sillons !
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 !
Formez vos bataillons, Marchons, marchons ! Qu'un sang impur Abreuve nos sillons !
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.
Formez vos bataillons, Marchons, marchons ! Qu'un sang impur Abreuve nos sillons !
Arise, children of the Fatherland, The day of glory has arrived! Against us stands tyranny Her bloody standard has been raised, (repeated) Do you hear, in the countryside, The roar of those ferocious soldiers? They come right into your arms To tear the throats of your sons, your wives!
Form your battalions, Let's March, let's march! So that an impure blood waters our furrows!
Of traitors and invented kings want? For whom have these vile chains These irons, been long prepared? (repeated) Frenchmen, for us, ah! What outrage What furious action it must arouse! It is for us they dare plan A return to the old slavery!
Form your battalions, Let's March, let's march! So that an impure blood waters our furrows!
Would make the law in our homes! What! These mercenary phalanxes Would strike down our proud warriors! (repeated) Great God! By chained hands Our brows would yield under the yoke Vile despots would themselves become The masters of our destinies!
Form your battalions, Let's March, let's march! So that an impure blood waters our furrows!
The shame of all parties, Tremble! Your parricidal schemes Will finally receive their prize! (repeated) Everyone is a soldier to combat you, If they fall, our young heroes, Will be produced anew from the ground, Ready to fight against you!
Form your battalions, Let's March, let's march! So that an impure blood waters our furrows!
Bear or hold back your blows! Spare those sorry victims, For regretfully arming against us (repeated) But these bloodthirsty despots These accomplices of Bouillé All these tigers who, mercilessly, Tear apart their mother's breast!
Form your battalions, Let's March, let's march! So that an impure blood waters our furrows!
Lead, support our avenging arms Liberty, cherished Liberty Fight with your defenders! (repeated) Under our flags may victory Hurry to your manly accents So that your expiring enemies See your triumph and our glory!
Form your battalions, Let's March, let's march! So that an impure blood waters our furrows!
When our elders are no longer there There we shall find their dust And the trace of their virtues (repeated) Much less keen to survive them Than to share their coffins We shall have the sublime pride To avenge or follow them.
Form your battalions, Let's March, let's march! So that an impure blood waters our furrows! |