France! At the Hour When You Bow Down, Poem by Victor Hugo

Poem by Victor Hugo Collection ArrayThemes PoliticsPeriod 19th century

France! at the hour when you bow down,
With a tyrant’s foot on your brow,
The voice will come forth from the caverns,
The chained will shudder and start.

The exile, standing on the shore,
Gazing at the star and the wave,
Like those we hear in dreams,
Will speak aloud in the dark;

And his words that threaten,
His words whose lightning gleams,
Will be like hands that pass
Holding swords in the night.

They will make the marble tremble
And the mountains the evening browns,
And the tresses of the trees
Will shiver beneath the black sky;

They will be the bronze that rings,
The cry that drives away the crows,
The unknown breath that makes shudder
The blade of grass on the tombs;

They will cry: Shame on the infamous,
On oppressors, on murderers!
They will call the souls
As warriors are called!

Over the races that are transformed,
Dark storm, they will hover;
And if those who live fall asleep,
Those who are dead will awaken.

Victor Hugo

Translation generated by Poésies 123 with assistance from the deepseek-chat artificial-intelligence model.

Text published on Poésies 123: https://www.poesies123.com/en/poem-france-at-the-hour-when-you-bow-down-victor-hugo/