Luyện nghe bài hát France Anthem Text

Arise children of the
The day of glory has
us tyranny's
Bloody is raised
to the sound in the fields
The howling of fearsome soldiers
are coming into our midst
To cut the of your sons and consorts
To arms
Form you
March,
Let impure
Water our
do they want this horde of slaves
Of traitors and conspiratorial
For whom these chains
long-prepared irons?
Frenchmen, for us, ah! What
What must be taken?
It is we they plan
To to the old slavery!
What! foreign cohorts!
They would make in our courts!
What! mercenary phalanxes
Would cut our warrior sons
Good Lord! By chained
Our brow would yield the yoke
The vile despots would have be
The masters of
Tremble, tyrants and
The of all good men
Tremble! Your parricidal
Will their just reward
Against you we are all
If they fall, our young
France bear new ones
to join the fight against you
Frenchmen, as warriors
or hold back your wounds
Spare sad victims
they regret taking up arms against us
But not these despots
accomplices of Bouill
All these tigers who
Ripped out their wombs
We shall into the pit
When our elders no longer be there
There we shall find their
And the mark of their
We are much less jealous of surviving
Than of sharing their
We shall have the pride
Of avenging or joining
Drive on sacred
Support our arms
Liberty, liberty
Join the with your defenders
Under our flags, let
Hurry to evil tone
So that in death your
See your and our glory!
Sent by Carlos Andr Pereira da Branco