Get up, get up, get up!
There is blood on the ground, refuse your bread;
May your wounds be like eyes.
Cry for the dead, the dead, the dead.
What other sadness can there be?
Your son, your wife, your brother;
Who said they were killed on the day of the battle?
Get up, get up, get up!
The land that doesn't give you bread flows with blood;
Make your wound look like an eye.
Tears for the dead, tears for the dead.
Is there any other way to pour out your sadness?
That's not your son, wife, brother,
Said they were killed during the battle?
Wake up, wake up, wake up!
Slaves and tyrants are twin enemies;
Has the cold chain been shaken?
Rest in peace, dust that belongs to your loved ones:
Their bones in the grave will start to move,
When they hear the voice of their loved ones,
Loudest in the jihad above.
Wake up, wake up, wake up.
Slaves and tyrants are twin enemies;
Break the cold chain
In the dust of the rest of your loved ones;
How their bones will wake up and jump,
Once they hear the songs of their loved ones.
The highest in this sacred battle!
Wave and hold the flag high!
When freedom is conquered:
Although slaves like her.
Hunger and labor, sighing.
And Ye who took part in her royal car,
Don't raise your hand in the joint war,
But to protect her, whose children are you?
V 1: Hold high the flag!
The Statue of Liberty is galloping towards victory;
Just serve her servant
It is "hunger" and "bitterness", it is a sigh, it is a sigh.
And you, followers of her solemn carriage,
Don't help support gang robbery,
You are sons of liberty, fighting only for her.
Glory, glory, glory,
To those who suffer!
Never mention names in stories.
More than you won.
The conquerors conquered their enemies alone,
Whose revenge, pride and power did they overthrow?
Ride a leaf, win more than yourself.
V 1: glory, glory, how glorious!
Anyone who suffers for her will die on the battlefield
There is no name in history.
Will be more brilliant than what you won.
The conquerors of the past conquered the enemy,
But to restrain one's hatred, pride and power.
But you, there will be more victories over the enemy.
Bind, bind every eyebrow
Corolla with violets, ivy and pine;
Now hide the blood.
Sweet nature gives it a sacred color:
Green power, blue hope and eternity;
But don't let pansy in it;
Ye is injured, which means amnesia.
V 1: Oh, prick everyone's forehead.
Crown of violets, ivy and pine branches;
With things that nature worships.
Beautiful colors cover up small blood spots;
Blue power, blue hope and eternity;
Everything, just don't grieve Corydalis,
You have been insulted, which will sting your memory.
( 18 19)