CHORUSMexicans, at the cry of battlelend your swords and bridle;and let the earth tremble at its centerupon the roar of the cannon.Your forehead shall be girded, oh fatherland, with olive garlandsby the divine archangel of peace,For in heaven your eternal destinyhas been written by the hand of God.But should a foreign enemyProfane your land with his sole,Think, beloved fatherland, that heavengave you a soldier in each son.CHORUSIIWar, war without truce against who would attemptto blemish the honor of the fatherland!War, war! The patriotic bannerssaturate in waves of blood.War, war! On the mount, in the valeThe terrifying cannon thunderand the echoes nobly resoundto the cries of union! liberty!CHORUSIIIFatherland, before your children become unarmedBeneath the yoke their necks in sway,May your countryside be watered with blood,On blood their feet trample.And may your temples, palaces and towerscrumble in horrid crash,and their ruins exist saying:The fatherland was made of one thousand heroes here.CHORUSIVFatherland, fatherland, your children swearto exhale their breath in your cause,If the bugle in its belligerent toneshould call upon them to struggle with bravery.For you the olive garlands!For them a memory of glory!For you a laurel of victory!For them a tomb of honor!Sent by Carlos André Pereira da Silva Branco