Thursday, April 8, 2010



(This song is made by Eugene Pottier and Pierre de Geyter after the ill fated Paris Commune. The first part of the translation, as well as the chorus came from the original version used by the English and Irish laborers while the remaining parts, mostly from the original French, were written by me. That song inspired me so much that upon doing this write-up, for this song, through its stirring melody and the realistic lyrics given, is likely for me to get in touch with this write-up I have made.)

Arise, ye workers from your slumbers,
Arise, ye prisoners of want.
For reason in revolt now thunders,
and at last ends the age of cant!
Away with all your superstitions,
Servile peoples, arise, arise!
We'll change henceforth the old tradition,
And spurn the dust to win the prize!

So comrades, come rally,
And the last fight must face.
The Internationale,
Unites the human race.
So comrades, come rally,
And the last fight must face.
The Internationale,
Unites the human race.

No Savior from on high believers,
No faith have we in superiors;
For we will win our liberation,
Through our hands and skills of own.
To throw back oppression with our skilled hand,
To take back what is ours;
Fire up the furnace and hammer boldly,
The fiery future of our kind!

The society oppresses and its law cheats,
The Taxes bleed the unfortunate;
No duty is imposed on the rich,
“Equal rights” is a hollow phrase.
Enough languishing in custody;
Equality needs other laws:
And it says “no rights without obligations”,
And so “no obligations without rights!”

Hideous in their glorifications,
Tyrants of every working place;
Have they ever done with like no other,
Through stealing share from other’s work?
Into the coffers of that lot,
What work creates has melted off;
The creators may strike to give back,
The share that every man has want.

No more deluded by reaction
For tyrants only make war!
The soldiers too will take strike action;
they’ll break ranks and fight no more!
And if Cannibals keep trying on us,
To sacrifice to their pride;
They soon shall hear the bullets flying;
As we’ll shoot them on our own side.

For we the masses of the nation,
Great army of the labour force;
We will end the centuries of greediness,
In this world we stood and fought!
Let us end the ages- old oppression,
Of every tyrants, beasts and dogs;
Once they are entirely perished,
The sun strikes its rays on us!