9/11 and Jeanne d’Arc
Je reste fidèle à moi-même.
Ich bleibe mir selbst treu.
I stay true to myself.
Even if the empire stands above me,
even if its shadow hides the sun,
I will not bow.
She came from fields beneath a quiet sky,
no crown of gold, no army at her side.
Only a voice she could not silence,
only a fire she could not hide.
They told her kings decide the future,
that power writes the final page.
But she looked straight into the darkness
and walked alone into the rage.
Courage is not having no fear.
Courage is walking while fear is near.
Not blind devotion, not a cry,
but knowing who you are
when the mighty tell you why
you should surrender.
I will not bow.
Ich werde mich nicht beugen.
Je ne plierai pas.
I stay true to myself.
Ich bleibe mir selbst treu.
Je reste fidèle à moi-même.
Though the great power rises,
though the whole world says obey,
I will not bow.
Ich werde mich nicht beugen.
Je ne plierai pas.
Orléans was waiting in the distance,
walls beneath a foreign hand.
Behind those walls lived fear and silence,
behind her rose a wounded land.
She was no fearless marble figure,
no heart untouched by doubt or pain.
Her courage lived inside the struggle,
to lose herself
and rise again.
When mercy entered where hate demanded,
when her hand refused the final blow,
she learned that strength is more than conquest,
and truth is more than what we show.
They can bind the hands.
They can close the gate.
They can name you guilty.
They can seal your fate.
But there is one place
no empire can command.
The place inside you
where you choose to stand.
Alles andere muss.
Der Mensch aber will.
Rester debout.
Rester fidèle.
To stand.
To choose.
To remain yourself.
I will not bow.
Ich werde mich nicht beugen.
Je ne plierai pas.
I stay true to myself.
Ich bleibe mir selbst treu.
Je reste fidèle à moi-même.
Not because I cannot fall,
not because I cannot bleed,
but because no greater power
can command what I believe.
I will not bow.
Ich werde mich nicht beugen.
Je ne plierai pas.
History gave her fire and judgment,
poets gave another end.
Chains were broken on the stage,
and she returned to fight again.
Not for glory.
Not for vengeance.
Not because the strong must win.
But because a human being
still possesses something
power cannot enter in.
When injustice asks for silence,
when the powerful demand consent,
there comes a point when fear is finished,
when endurance has been spent.
Then the quiet heart remembers
what no ruler can erase:
You may conquer all around me.
You will never own this place.
I WILL NOT BOW.
ICH WERDE MICH NICHT BEUGEN.
JE NE PLIERAI PAS.
I STAY TRUE TO MYSELF.
ICH BLEIBE MIR SELBST TREU.
JE RESTE FIDÈLE À MOI-MÊME.
Let the empire raise its banners.
Let the darkness fill the day.
There is something stronger than power:
the human right to say—
NO.
I will not bow.
Ich werde mich nicht beugen.
Je ne plierai pas.
Je ne plierai pas.
Ich werde mich nicht beugen.
I will not bow.
Je reste fidèle à moi-même.
Ich bleibe mir selbst treu.
I stay true to myself.
Not fearless.
Free.
Je ne plierai pas.
Ich werde mich nicht beugen.
I will not bow.
S.
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