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Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes.
Americas: Vol. XXX. 1876–79.

South America: Buenos Ayres

National Hymn

By Don Vincente Lopez

Translated by H. Ware

HARK! hear the sounds, the sounds that are swelling,

We are free! we are free! we are free!

Hark! hear you, our fetters are breaking!

On her throne noble Liberty see!

In the sight of the world has arisen

A nation glorious, rejoicing, and free,

Her fair brow with laurels encircled,

The proud lion of Spain at her knee.

Green forever be the laurels

Which our brows encircle high!

We ’ve won them, we ’ll wear them with glory,

Let us swear, when we lose them, to die!”

The breast of each grim-visaged champion

Great Mars with fell rage does inspire;

With fury each brave heart is burning,

And glows with the heaven-kindled fire.

The earth with our firm tramp is shaking,

The Inca is roused in his grave,

For he feels that his children are waking

The proud name of their country to save!

From the mountains the war-cry is rising!

From the cities it echoes afar;

The plains all around are resounding

With “Liberty, vengeance, and war!”

The breast of the proud-hearted tyrants

Foul envy has touched with her gall,

And now, their red banner unfurling,

For battle and slaughter they call.

On Mexico now, and on Quito

The march of the tyrants we see,

Hear the wail of the blood-flowing cities,

Cochabamba, La Paz, Potosí!

See them now upon mourning Caraccas

Bring carnage and weeping and woe!

Now behold them, like tigers devouring

The nations their power has brought low!

On you now, O valiant Argentines,

The invader has come in his pride!

Your plains he is trampling, insulting,

And thinks o’er your glories to ride!

But soon on these bloodthirsty tigers

Our stout-hearted champions shall fall,

And vainly shall they be resisted

Who rallied at Liberty’s call.

To arms the true-hearted Argentines

Are rushing with generous zeal;

Through the plains of the South is resounding

The trumpet’s awakening peal!

The hosts of the Union are marching,

Buenos Ayres the van does maintain,

And the arms of our champions are tearing

The proud, cruel Lion of Spain!

San José, San Lorenzo, Suipacha,

Both Piedras, Salta, Tucuman,

And the tyrant’s sure stronghold, Colonia,

And those in the Band Oriental,

Bear inscriptions eternal that tell us

“The Argentines here conquered their foe,

Here the cruel oppressor was vanquished,

And here his proud head was brought low!”

Now victory, on sun-lighted pinions,

Above us is soaring on high,

And the tyrant’s base, cowardly minions

In fear from the battle-field fly!

His banners, his arms, now surrendered,

As Liberty’s trophies we own,

And the nation, triumphant in glory,

Is crowding round Liberty’s throne!

From pole to pole hear now resounding

The shrill-blowing trumpet of fame,

It tells and repeats to all nations

The sound of America’s name!

Now, Liberty’s throne in surrounding

Hear it ringing from mountain to sea!

“God save the Argentine Republic!”

“God prosper the land of the free!”

Green forever be the laurels

Which our brows encircle high!

We ’ve won them, we ’ll wear them with glory,

Let us swear, when we lose them, to die!”