Let's sing a song, thunder strikes ,
Under the explosions and bullets under the flame fires
Under the banner of black gigantic struggle ,
With the sounds of the tocsin draft tube !
Destroy , brothers , palaces and idols
Bring down the shackles pluck porphyry ;
Pretty submissive and servile love -
We mountain people flood into the blood !
Pretty submissive and servile love -
We mountain people flood into the blood !
Woke up the people's will rise
On moans commune Ravachol the call ,
The cries of revenge Bereaved ,
Under the yoke of bourgeois , in a hangman's noose .
Many of them, without counting , the fate of goals ,
Tortured in jails , in the basement of the slain,
Many of them, the truth about serving you
And fallen in heroic , unequal struggle !
Many of them, the truth about serving you
And fallen in heroic , unequal struggle !
Their moans soar over the skies of Russia,
Their moans , appeals , as the roar of the elements,
Sound over Paris , Cayenne deaf
And we are called to fight Valiant .
Let's sing a song, thunder strikes ,
Under the explosions and bullets under the flame fires
Under the banner of black gigantic struggle ,
With the sounds of the tocsin draft tube !
Under the banner of black gigantic struggle ,
With the sounds of the tocsin draft tube ! Under the banner of black gigantic struggle ,
With the sounds of the tocsin draft tube !