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by The Rose Commune of Caelapes. . 664 reads.

The Internationale

Internationālis Hymnus

The original sheet music to
L'Internationale as written by
composer Pierre De Geyter

National anthem of
Caelapes

Lyrics

Eugène Pottier, 1871

Music

Pierre De Geyter, 1888

Adopted

2016


"The Internationale" (French: L'Internationale; Latin: Internationālis Hymnus) is the national anthem of Caelapes and a widely-sung left-wing anthem. The lyrics come from "L'Internationale," a poem written on June 30, 1871 by the 54-year-old French transport worker and amateur poet Eugène Pottier shortly after the brutal destruction of the Paris Commune, to which he had ben an elected councillor.

The poem was originally sung to the tune of "La Marseillaise" until Belgian composer Pierre De Geyter wrote original music for the text in 1888 at the request of Gustave Delory, a socialist choirmaster.

"The Internationale" became the official anthem of Caelapes in 2016 after the socialist revolution swept away old images and symbols of the Caelapitan Federation. Only the first, fifth, and sixth stanzas were adopted by the First General Council, in a Latin translation written by Riccardo Venturi.

Contents

1 Lyrics

Lyrics

French lyrics

Debout, les damnés de la terre,
Debout, les forçats de la faim!
La raison tonne en son cratère
C'est l'éruption de la fin.
Du passé faisons table rase
Foule esclave, debout, debout!
Le monde va changer de base,
Nous ne sommes rien, soyons tout!

     Refrain:
       C'est la lutte finale
       Groupons-nous, et demain
       L'Internationale
       Sera le genre humain!
       C'est la lutte finale
       Groupons-nous, et demain
       L'Internationale
       Sera le genre humain!

Les rois nous saoulaient de fumées
Paix entre nous, guerre aux tyrans!
Appliquons la grève aux armées,
Crosse en l'air, et rompons les rangs!
S'ils s'obstinent, ces cannibales
À faire de nous des héros,
Ils sauront bientôt que nos balles
Sont pour nos propres généraux!

Ouvriers, paysans, nous sommes
Le grand parti des travailleurs!
La terre n'appartient qu'aux hommes,
L'oisif ira loger ailleurs.
Combien de nos chairs se repaissent!
Mais si les corbeaux, les vautours
Un de ces matins disparaissent,
Le soleil brillera toujours!

Latin translation

Surgite, orbis terrārum servī,
surgite, ēsurientēs nunc!
Excutitur tonitrū crātēr
eruptabitque dēmum.
Tempus āctum abiit non redībit
et surgunt turbæ servōrum nunc!
Terrārum revolvitur orbīs,
e nihilō tōtum erimus!

     Versus intercalaris:
       Ad postrēmum prœlium
       eāmus iūnctī et crās
       Internationālis hymnus
       sociābit hominēs!
       Ad postrēmum prœlium
       eāmus iūnctī et crās
       Internationālis hymnus
       sociābit hominēs!

Rēgēs nōs inēbriāvērunt,
sit nōbīs pāx, tyrannis bellum!
Nōbīs sunt signā relinquenda,
mīlitiam nōbīs rēicienda est!
Anthrōpophagī persevērant
nōs vertere in hērōēs,
sed quam prīmum nostra tēla
in omnēs ducēs īnfodientur.

In agrō, in cīvitāte sumus
labōrātōrum magna factiō!
Hominibus pertinet terra,
numquam īgnāvīs pertinet.
Quam vescuntur nostra carne!
Sed omnēs corvī et vulturēs
aliquō diē ēvānescent,
et in æternum lūcēbit sōl!

English translation

Arise, ye prisoners of starvation,
Arise, ye wretched of the earth!
For justice thunders condemnation
A better world's in birth.
No more tradition's chains shall bind us
Arise, ye slaves, no more in thrall!
The earth shall rise on new foundations,
We have been nought, we shall be all!

     Refrain:
       'Tis the final conflict
       Let each stand in their place
       The Internationale
       Unites the human race!
       'Tis the final conflict
       Let each stand in their place
       The Internationale
       Unites the human race!

No more deluded by reaction,
On tyrants only we'll make war!
The soldiers too will take strike action,
They'll break ranks and fight no more!
And if those cannibals keep trying,
To sacrifice us to their pride,
They soon shall hear the bullets flying,
We'll shoot the generals on our own side.

Toilers from shops and fields united,
The union we of all who work:
The earth belongs to us, the workers,
No room here for the shirk.
How many on our flesh have fattened!
But if the noisome birds of prey
Shall vanish from the sky some morning,
The blessed sunlight still will stay.

The Rose Commune of Caelapes

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