Mexico National Anthem

 

National Anthem of Mexico

Mexicanos, al grito de guerra
El acero aprestad y
el bridón;
y retiemble en sus centros la tierra
Al sonoro rugir del cañón

Ciña oh patria!
tus sienes
de oliva
De la Paz el arcángel divino,
Que en el cielo tu eterno destino
Por el dedo de Dios se escribió.
Más si osare un extraño enemigo

Profanar con su planta tu suelo,
Piensa, oh patria querida ,que el cielo
Un soldado en cada hijo te dio.

Guerra, guerra sin tregua al que intente
De la patria manchar los blasones!
Guerra, guerra! Los patrios pendones
En las olas de sangre empapad.

Guerra, guerra! En el monte, en el valle
Los cañones horrísonos truenen

Y los ecos sonoros resuenen
Con las voces de
Unión!
Libertad!

Antes, patria,
que inermes tus hijos
Bajo el yugo su cuello dobleguen,

Tus campiñas con sangre se rieguen,
Sobre sangre se estampe su pie.

Y tus templos, palacios y torres
Se derrumben con hórrido estruendo,
Y sus ruinas existan diciendo:
De mil héroes
la patria aquí fue.
Coro
Patria! patria!
Tus hijos te juran
Exhalar en tus aras su aliento,
Si el clarín con su bélico acento
Los convoca
a lidiar con valor.
Para ti las guirnaldas de oliva!
Un recuerdo para ellos de gloria!
Un laurel para ti de victoria!
Un sepulcro para ellos de honor!

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English Version:-
Mexicans, at the cry of battle
prepare your swords and bridle;
and let the earth tremble at its center
at the roar of the cannon.

Oh fatherland
Your forehead shall be girded with olive garlands,
by the divine archangel of peace
For in heaven your eternal destiny
has been written by the hand of God.

But should a foreign enemy dale to
profane your land with his sole,
Think, beloved fatherland, that heaven
gave you a soldier
in each son.

War, war without truce against who would attempt
to blemish the honor of the fatherland!
War, war! The patriotic banners
drench in waves
of blood.

War, war! On the mount, in the valley
The terrifying thunder of the cannon

And the echoes nobly
resound to the cries of
Union!
Liberty!

Fatherland, before your children

Become unarmed
Beneath the yoke their necks in sway,
And your countryside be watered with blood,
On blood their
feet trample.

And may your temples, palaces and towers
crumble in horrid
crash,
and ruins remain
saying:
The fatherland was made of one thousand heroes.

Fatherland, fatherland, your children swear
to exhale their breath in your cause,
If the bugle in its belligerent tone
should call upon them to struggle with bravery.

For you the olive garlands!
For them a memory of glory!
For you a laurel of victory!
For them a tomb of honor!

 

Mexican Independence Day Wallpapers

 

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