I still remember, a life ago
Across the ocean, at the Pyrenees’ feet
There the maquisards were resisting in the night
And the insurgents’ chants resonated in chorus
 
Go! Go! Victory chanting!
Nevermind the taste of tears, nevermind the taste of blood
Can’t you hear, in the distance, the partisans’ chant?
It’s ours now
It’s ours, victory in chants
 
If here we starve in the city’s streets
Overthere they torture, jail and execute
But for all of us misery the same 
And everywhere, hunger has this taste of wrath
From Europe or America, from cities and countrysides
Answering the call of Spain’s resistants
There to fight against tyranny
For a free Spain, betrayed by its military
 
Moscow has betrayed us, London abandoned us
And the rest of the world has turned its back on us
Go on, brothers in arms, flagless fighters
Now underground, our ideals remain
Go on Mac-Paps, if the night has fallen
On a faltering Europe in which Spain has crumbled
Remains the hope that all is not lost
Against dictatorship, the fight goes on