It’s night, and the world is asleep.
I alone am awake, and wait
For a passing steed,
For a trumpet call.
I listen, and hear nothing
But the sound of the waters
And the murmuring of the wind.
Mute, are all afflicted things,
Like the hour that follows a defeat.

O fatherland! O King!
New support will come.
The Almighty has called
the shepherdess away from her flock.
Let her go. O my sweet birthplace,
My sweet family, o fields, o forests, goodbye.			

O mother, for the time being, you
Will seek out your daughter,
You will call me
And no one will answer.
But little by little, the sound of 
Great undertakings will dry your tears:
Every mother, every Frenchman
Will envy my mother.
O mother, for the time being, you
Will seek your daughter,
You will call me
And no one will answer.

And yet she weeps. Ah! suddenly
A light flashed in the East,
It wasn’t the rising sun,
You’re my vision, I recognize you.
Larger than usual
It fills the sky with lightning and sends me a sign:
Angel of Death, you call me, I’m coming.

Ah, the fire in your eyes
Touches me, assails me, burns me.
Give me a flaming sword, I’ll march into battle.
Long live the King, victory is mine.
The virgin guides the warriors in the field,
In among the lions, the lamb hurls itself.
They can’t escape, the Lord cows them.
Long live the King, victory is mine.

Joy runs from heart to heart.
But, as they stand calmed and timid, 
They will demand, who saved the King?
Ah! The virgin was victorious, [she] who believed in God.
Give me a flaming sword, I’ll march into battle.
Long live the King, victory is mine.