Argentine National Anthem Lyrics
lyricsauthor: Vicente López y Planes
Hear, mortals, the sacred cry:
"Freedom, freedom, freedom"
Hear the sound of broken chains,
see noble equality enthroned.
On the face of the earth rises
A glorious new nation.
Her head is crowned with laurels,
And a Lion lies defeated at her feet.
May the laurels be eternal,
the ones we managed to win
Let us live crowned with glory
or swear to die gloriously
From the new Champions their faces
Mars himself seems to encourage
Greatness nestles in their bodies:
at their march they make everything tremble.
The dead Inca are shaken,
and in their bones the ardour revives
which renews their children
of the Motherland the ancient splendour.
Mountain ranges and walls are felt
to resound with horrible din:
the whole country is disturbed by cries
of revenge, of war and rage.
In the fiery tyrants the envy
spit the pestipherous bile;
their bloody standard they rise
provoking the most cruel combat.
Don't you see them over Mexico and Quito
throwing themselves with tenacious viciousness?
And who they cry, bathed in blood,
Potosí, Cochabamba and La Paz?
Don't you see them over sad Caracas
spreading mourning and weeping and death?
Don't you see them devouring as wild animals
all people who surrender to them?
To you it dares, Argentines,
the pride of the vile invader;
your fields it steps on, retelling
so many glories as winner.
But the brave ones, that united swore
their merry freedom to sustain,
to those blood-thirsty tigers
bold breasts they will know to oppose.
The valiant Argentine to arms
runs burning with determination and bravery,
the war bugler, as thunder,
in the fields of the South resounds.
Buenos Ayres opposes, leading
the people of the illustrious Union,
and with robust arms they tear
the arrogant Iberian lion.
San José, San Lorenzo, Suipacha,
both Piedras, Salta and Tucumán,
La Colonia and the same walls
of the tyrant in the Banda Oriental.
They are eternal signboards they say:
here the Argentine arm found triumph,
here the fierce oppressor of the Motherland
his proud neck bent.
Victory to the Argentine warrior
covered with its brilliant wings,
and embarrassed at this view the tyrant
with infamy took to flight.
Its flags, its arms surrender
as trophies to freedom,
and above wings of glory the people rise
the worthy throne of their great majesty.
From one pole to the other resounds
the fame of the sonorous bugler,
and of America the name showing
they repeat "Mortals, hear:
The United Provinces of the South
have now displayed their most honorable throne".
And the free people of the world reply:
"We salute the great people of Argentina!"