Текст и перевод песни Mormon Tabernacle Choir - Battle Hymn of the Republic

Battle Hymn of the Republic

Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord
He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored,
He has loosed the fateful lightening of His terrible swift sword
His truth is marching on.

Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
His truth is marching on.

I have seen Him in the watch-fires of a hundred circling camps
They have builded Him an altar in the evening dews and damps
I can read His righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps
His day is marching on.

Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
His truth is marching on.

I have read a fiery gospel writ in burnish'd rows of steel,

As ye deal with my condemners, So with you my grace shall deal;
Let the Hero, born of woman, crush the serpent with his heel
Since God is marching on.

Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
His truth is marching on.

He has sounded form the trumpet that shall never call retreat
He is sifting out the hearts of men before His judgment-seat
Oh, be swift, my soul, to answer Him! be jubilant, my feet!
Our God is marching on.

Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
His truth is marching on.

Ln the beauty of the lillies Christ was born across the sea,
With a glory in His bosom that transfigures you and me:
As He died to make men holy, let us die to make men free,
While God is marching on.

Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
His truth is marching on.

L'hymne de la bataille de la République

Mes yeux ont vu la gloire de la venue du Seigneur
Il piétine le raisin où sont stockés les raisins de la colère,
Il a lâché la foudre fatidique de sa terrible épée rapide
Sa vérité marche.

Gloire! Gloire! Alléluia!
Gloire! Gloire! Alléluia!
Gloire! Gloire! Alléluia!
Sa vérité marche.

Je l'ai vu dans les feux de camp d'une centaine de camps circulaires
Ils lui ont construit un autel dans la rosée et les vapeurs du soir
Je peux lire sa juste sentence par les lampes sombres et flamboyantes
Son jour marche.

Gloire! Gloire! Alléluia!
Gloire! Gloire! Alléluia!
Gloire! Gloire! Alléluia!
Sa vérité marche.

J'ai lu un Évangile ardent écrit en rangées d'acier poli,

Comme tu traites mes condamnés, Ainsi ma grâce traitera avec toi ;
Que le héros, né d'une femme, écrase le serpent avec son talon
Puisque Dieu marche.

Gloire! Gloire! Alléluia!
Gloire! Gloire! Alléluia!
Gloire! Gloire! Alléluia!
Sa vérité marche.

Il a sonné de la trompette qui ne sonnera jamais de retraite
Il crible les cœurs des hommes devant son tribunal
Oh, sois rapide, mon âme, pour lui répondre ! sois jubilatoire, mes pieds !
Notre Dieu marche.

Gloire! Gloire! Alléluia!
Gloire! Gloire! Alléluia!
Gloire! Gloire! Alléluia!
Sa vérité marche.

Dans la beauté des lis, le Christ est né de l'autre côté de la mer,
Avec une gloire dans son sein qui te transfigure, toi et moi :
Comme il est mort pour rendre les hommes saints, mourons pour rendre les hommes libres,
Alors que Dieu marche.

Gloire! Gloire! Alléluia!
Gloire! Gloire! Alléluia!
Gloire! Gloire! Alléluia!
Sa vérité marche.