Cruel times prevail, the hand of doom disdains,
The mouths of mothers, fathers and their child,
Bread and Peace for all a distant dream,
The glory of the worker's dream defiled,
By strutting Kings and tyrants of blue blood,
Prussian blue, opposed to Russian red,
The revolution, world yet ours to win,
The dream from which the honest battle bled,
Marx's words shine bright and cast a light,
Upon path of destiny, worker's delight,
A flame to lead us from beleaguered night,
Of Capital, its horrors and its fright,
We must take path of struggle, justice, toil,
The quest for righteousness it does embroil,
All human hearts in sweet, earnest endeavour,
Across the world's bright nations, sands and soils.