国际歌英文版歌词 简介及歌词请查收
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1、《国际歌》是欧仁·鲍狄埃在1871年作词的,皮埃尔·狄盖特于1888年谱曲而成的一首歌曲。
2、歌词: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!
Chorus
'Tis the final conflict;
Let each stand in his place.
The International working class
Shall be the human race!
We want no condescending saviors
To rule us from a judgment hall;
We workers ask not for their favors;
Let us consult for all.
To make the thief disgorge his booty
To free the spirit from its cell,
We must ourselves decide our duty,
We must decide, and do it well.
Chorus
'Tis the final conflict;
Let each stand in his place.
The International working class
Shall be the human race!
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.
Chorus
'Tis the final conflict;
Let each stand in his place.
The International working class
Shall be the human race!
2、歌词: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!
Chorus
'Tis the final conflict;
Let each stand in his place.
The International working class
Shall be the human race!
We want no condescending saviors
To rule us from a judgment hall;
We workers ask not for their favors;
Let us consult for all.
To make the thief disgorge his booty
To free the spirit from its cell,
We must ourselves decide our duty,
We must decide, and do it well.
Chorus
'Tis the final conflict;
Let each stand in his place.
The International working class
Shall be the human race!
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.
Chorus
'Tis the final conflict;
Let each stand in his place.
The International working class
Shall be the human race!
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