Le Chant des Girondins

Le Chant des Girondins
English: The Song of Girondists
	Former national anthem of France
Lyrics	Alexandre Dumas,; Auguste Maquet,; Claude-Joseph Rouget de Lisle
Music	Alphonse Varney
Adopted	1848
Relinquished	1852
Preceded by	La Parisienne
Succeeded by	Partant pour la Syrie
Audio sample
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Le Chant des Girondins (English: The Song of the Girondists) was the national anthem of the French Second Republic, written for the drama Le Chevalier de Maison-Rouge by the writer Alexandre Dumas with Auguste Maquet. The lines of the refrain were borrowed from "Roland à Roncevaux", a song written in Strasbourg by Claude-Joseph Rouget de Lisle, the author of La Marseillaise.[1] The music is by conductor-composer Alphonse Varney.[2]

Lyrics

French		English translation
1. Par la voix du canon d’alarmes La France appelle ses enfants, – Allons dit le soldat, aux armes ! C’est ma mère, je la défends. (Refrain) Mourir pour la Patrie Mourir pour la Patrie C’est le sort le plus beau, le plus digne d’envie C’est le sort le plus beau, le plus digne d’envie 2. Nous, amis, qui loin des batailles Succombons dans l’obscurité, Vouons du moins nos funérailles A la France, à la liberté. (Refrain) 3. Frères, pour une cause sainte, Quand chacun de nous est martyr, Ne proférons pas une plainte, La France, un jour doit nous bénir. (Refrain) 4. Du Créateur de la nature, Bénissons encore la bonté, Nous plaindre serait une injure, Nous mourons pour la liberté. (Refrain)		1. By the voice of the alarm gun France calls her children, – "Come," said the soldier, to arms! It's my mother, I defend her. (Refrain) Dying for the Fatherland Dying for the Fatherland It is the most beautiful, most desirable fate It is the most beautiful, most desirable fate 2. We, friends, who far from the battles Succumbing in the darkness, Let us at least take our funeral To France, to freedom. (Refrain) 3. Brothers, for a holy cause, When each of us is martyred, Do not make a complaint, France, one day ought to bless us. (Refrain) 4. From the Creator of Nature, Let us still bless the goodness, Complaining would be an insult, We die for freedom. (Refrain)

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