In 1871, the Paris Commune was founded in France, which succeeded in establishing the world’s first socialist state and government on the planet. Comrades Eugene Pottier and Pierre Dejetel were fascinated by the great enthusiasm and proletarian spirit (their feelings, encouragement and kindness towards the working class) of the communists, and wrote and composed this song, which is one of the greatest songs of all time. Even today, it is loved and sung by many comrades on May Day and at socialist party rallies.
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 naught, we shall be all.
Chorus
T’is the final conflict.
Let each stand in his place.
The International Union
shall be the human race.
We want no condescending saviors
To rule us from their judgement hall
We workers ask not for their favors
Let us consult for all.
To make the theif disgorge his booty
To free the spirit from its cell
We must ourselves decide our duty
We must decide and do it well.
Chorus
The law oppresses us and tricks us,
The wage slave system drains our blood;
The rich are free from obligation,
The laws the poor delude.
Too long we’ve languished in subjection,
Equality has other laws;
“No rights”, says she “without their duties,
No claims on equals without cause.”
Chorus
Behold them seated in their glory
The kings of mine and rail and soil!
What have you read in all their story,
But how they plundered toil?
Fruits of the workers’ toil are buried
In strongholds of the idle few
In working for their restitution
The men will only claim their due.
Chorus
The kings make us drunk with their fumes,
Peace among ourselves, war to the tyrants!
Let the armies go on strike,
Guns in the air, and break ranks
If these cannibals insist
In making heroes of us,
Soon they will know our bullets
Are for our generals
Chorus
We toilers from all fields united
Join hand in hand with 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 norsome birds of prey
Shall vanish from the sky some morning
The blessed sunlight then will stay.
Chorus
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