| TURN O Libertad, for the war is over, |
|
From it and all henceforth expanding, doubting no more, resolute,
sweeping the world, |
| Turn from lands retrospective recording proofs of the past, |
| From the singers that sing the trailing glories of the past, |
|
From the chants of the feudal world, the triumphs of kings, slavery,
caste, |
|
Turn to the world, the triumphs reserv'd and to come—give up
that backward world, |
| Leave to the singers of hitherto, give them the trailing past, |
|
But what remains remains for singers for you—wars to come are
for you, |
|
(Lo, how the wars of the past have duly inured to you, and the
wars of the present also inure;) |
|
Then turn, and be not alarm'd O Libertad—turn your undying
face, |
| To where the future, greater than all the past, |
| Is swiftly, surely preparing for you. |