Martyrs of the Army

Soldiers of Mount Lebanon, soldiers of my land,
From Akkar, Shouf, Bekaa, Kesrouan, the coastal strand,
I hail you as great heroes in your chariots of fire
As in ancient times the men of Byblos, Sidon, Tyre,
Tramping far with Hannibal across the snowy dome
Passing by Lake Trasimene up to the gates of Rome.
Every man among them proud to give his life,
As lions from the legends ready for the strife.
‘Neath the emblem of the Cedar they come with steady strides
From the valleys and the summits and everywhere besides,
The sons of our country have defended, strong and bold,
This land of gods and saints, its freedom to uphold,
Land where prayer is offered on every hill that you behold.
Soldiers of my country, men of whom we’re proud,
Who fight for right, for truth and light, proclaiming them aloud.
Sons of beauteous Lebanon, you give glory to its name,
Beyond our space and time will go your noble fame.
Combating courageously, your blood will mark this age,
Pure blood of our children shed in a glorious gage.
Flower of our youth in this springtime without peer,
Offering up your lives for those whom you hold dear.
Not cowed by death you forward go to look it in the face,
Beating down the obstacles and giving it no grace.
Sons of my country, the very ground you tread
Welcomes glad your footfall for the honor in you bred.
Of this mosaic of the East where diversity abounds,
Lebanon is its flower with its colors and its sounds.
While the milk of human kindness is its passion and its task,
Its enemies are always there under every change of mask.
They come in from the desert, one idea put in their brain,
Taught to be fanatic, with one view to be insane,
Reared the heirs of hatred, to kill and to be killed,
By teachers with false claim by Inspiration to be filled.
They think they go to Paradise as chosen from On High
They despise their victims all and think that they must die.
But the prophets sent by heaven all taught the way of peace
That men may live together and peace and love increase.
Soldiers you are martyrs and wear a laurel crown,
For love of your country, and not for hatred shown.
In the north of the land lost souls have brought in fire,
With other plotters joined they cause destruction dire.
Murderers, assassins, their minds with falseness filled,
By evil teachers twisted, their conscience wholly stilled.
Their spirits have been cloaked in dark satanic shroud,
They live in fearful darkness where no reason is allowed.
Nothing to their hands is lacking, to do our people harm,
They slaughtered sleeping soldiers ‘ere they took up arm.
Such cowardly behavior is something in their breath
With trickery disloyal that will take them to their death.
Fanatics poor these are, seeking death by their own choice,
They think they die for God, the conviction that they voice.
Extremists without pity, something burnt into their soul,
Taught to know no pity, with murder their one goal.
Filled with hate and anger, revenge their sole desire
‘Gainst everything that’s noble to which men can aspire.
The waters of the river known as clear and cold
Now flow amid the ruins, scenes of horror yet untold.
Their evil plots fomented, their plans they long prepare,
Have brought death to the camp of the homeless in despair.
Soldiers of my country, by laying down your lives,
You bring glory to your Army and its honor great revives.
For those who have fallen and whose blood has cleansed our land,
Our voices raised on high shall sing their honor grand.
They gave their lives for freedom and for truth and right
And so upon our hearts their names are written bright.

French by Joseph Matar – Translation: K.J. Mortimer