Rebel song

de James Connolly

Come, workers, sing a rebel song,
A song of love and hate;
Of love unto the lowly
And of hatred to the great,
The great who trod our fathers down,
Who steal our children’s bread,
Whose hands of greed are stretch’d to rob
The living and the dead.

Refrão:
Then sing our rebel song
As we proudly sweep along
To end the age-old tyranny
That makes for human tears.
Our march is nearer done
With each setting of the sun,
And the tyrant’s might is passing
With the passing of the years.

We sing no song of wailing,
And no songs of sights or tears,
High are our hopes and stout our hearts,
And banished all our fears.
Our flag is raised above us,
So that all the world may see,
'Tis Labour’s faith and Labours arm
Alone can Labour free.

Refrão

Out of the depths of misery,
We march with hearts aflame,
With wrath against the rulers false,
Who wreck our manhood’s name.
The serf who licks the tyrant’s rod,
May bend forgiving knee;
The slave who breaks his slav’ry’s chain,
A wrathful man must be.

Refrão

Our army marches onward
with its face towards the dawn,
In trust secure in that one thing
the slave may lean upon,
The might within the arm of him
who, knowing freedom's worth,
Strikes home to banish tyranny
from off the face of earth

Refrão