Mexicanos al grito de guerra,
assemble the steel and the bridle,
Y retieble en sus centros la tierra
to the resounding roar of the cannon.
and may the Earth tremble at its core
"Al sonoro rugir del cañón"
Oh Motherland! may your temples be wreathed with the olive
by the divine archangel of Peace;
for in heaven your eternal destiny
was written by the finger of God.
But if a foreign enemy should dare
to profane your ground with his tread,
think, oh beloved Motherland! that heaven
Gave you a soldier in every son.
War, war without truce upon him who means
to sully the blazon of the Motherland;
War, war!
Soak our homeland’s flags in the waves of blood.
War, war! In the mountains and the valley, the dreadful cannons thunder,
and the deafening echoes resound with the cries of Union! Liberty!
Motherland, Motherland! Your sons swear to exhale out their breath in your honor, if the bugle with its warlike tone calls them to fight with valor. For you the garlands of olive! For them a memory of glory! For you a laurel of victory! For them a tomb of honor!