Board Thread:Fun and Games/@comment-30901227-20171108140313/@comment-35382724-20180421215346

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, that we knew how to win. Let us live crowned with glory, or swear to die gloriously.

The faces of the new champions seem animated by Mars himself Greatness nestles in their breasts: as they march everything trembles. The tombs of the dead Inca are shaken up, and in their bones the ardour revives which renews their children of the Fatherland the ancient splendour. May the laurels be eternal etc. But hills and walls are heard to echo with awful clamour: the whole country is shaken by cries of revenge, of war, and fury. On fierce tyrants envy spat its pestilential bile; their bloody standard they raise provoking the most cruel fighting. May the laurels be eternal etc. Do you not see them on Mexico and Quito throwing themselves with tenacious cruelty? And how weep, soaked in blood, Potosí, Cochabamba and La Paz? Do you not see them over sad Caracas spread mourning, and tears, and death? Do you not see them devouring as wild beasts all peoples who they defeat? May the laurels be eternal etc. It dares face you, Argentines, the pride of the vile invader. Your lands it tramples, boasting of many glories as victor. But the brave, who united swore their happy freedom to sustain, these blood-thirsty tigers they will confront with strong chests. May the laurels be eternal etc. The valiant Argentine to arms runs burning with zest and valour, the bugle of war, as thunder, in the fields of the South resounded. Buenos Aires opposes the front of the people of the illustrious Union, and with strong arms they tear to pieces the arrogant Iberian lion. May the laurels be eternal etc. San José, San Lorenzo, Suipacha, both Piedras, Salta and Tucumán, La Colonia and even the walls of the tyrant on the Eastern bank†. They are eternal signboards that say: "Here Argentine hands triumphed, here the fierce oppressor of the Fatherland his proud neck bent". May the laurels be eternal etc. Victory enveloped the Argentine warrior with its shining wings, and stunned at this sight the tyrant with infamy took to flight. His flags, his arms surrendered as trophies to freedom, and on wings of glory the people raise a throne worthy of its great majesty. May the laurels be eternal etc. From pole to pole resounds the sonorous bugle of fame, and showing the name of America it repeats "Mortals, hear!: Their noble throne have now opened the united provinces of the South." And the free people of the world reply: "To the great Argentine people, hail!" May the laurels be eternal etc.