Barcelona my Cradle! The crime was great, a catastrophe all too tragic, For a bloodthirsty god they

Dawn on the Mountains In this third millennium, in this August that has passed, We have seen

Nice, Pearl of the Midland Sea Oft have I walked along the shore, charmed by the golden

Père Jacques, Martyr of Rouvray God called him from his tender youth, filled with deep emotion, The

Qaa, Village of the Prophet Elijah North-east of a province in a landscape enchanted, Hamlets and townships

Paris, the Wounded No mere city is Paris, not just a metropolis, City of sanctuaries like the

Our Army Disciplined, silent and strong, our Army is there all along, Always ready its blood to