Maurice Druon died April 14, 2009. Druon translated Marly's Chant des Partisans with his uncle Joseph Kessel (1898-1979). Druon and Kessel were both better-known as novelists, but their translation of Marly's Chant des Partisans was the most popular song of the French Resistance, and was considered for adoption as the French national anthem, in place of La Marseillaise.

Le Chant des Partisans:

Ami, entends-tu le vol noir des corbeaux sur nos plaines ?

Ami, entends-tu ces cris sourds du pays qu'on enchaîne ?

Ohé partisans, ouvriers et paysans, c'est l'alarme !

Ce soir l'ennemi connaîtra le prix du sang et des larmes.

Montez de la mine, descendez des collines, camarades,

Sortez de la paille les fusils, la mitraille, les grenades ;

Ohé les tueurs, à la balle ou au couteau tuez vite !

Ohé saboteur, attention à ton fardeau, dynamite ...

C'est nous qui brisons les barreaux des prisons, pour nos frères,

La haine à nos trousses, et la faim qui nous pousse, la misère.

Il y a des pays où les gens aux creux du lit font des rêves

Ici, nous, vois-tu, nous on marche et nous on tue, nous on crève.

Ici chacun sait ce qu'il veut, ce qu'il fait, quand il passe ;

Ami, si tu tombes, un ami sort de l'ombre à ta place.

Demain du sang noir séchera au grand soleil sur les routes,

Chantez, compagnons, dans la nuit la liberté nous écoute.

Unofficial English Translation

Friend, do you hear the crows' dark flight over our plains?

Friend, do you hear the muffled cries of the country being shackled?

Ahoy ! Resistants, labourers and farmers, the alarm has sounded!

Tonight the enemy shall know the price of blood and tears.

Come out of the mine, come down from the hills, comrades,

Take the guns, the munitions and the grenades from under the straw;

Ahoy killers, with bullets and knives kill swiftly!

Ahoy "saboteur", be careful with your burden of dynamite!

We're the ones who smash the bars of jails, for our brothers,

Hate pursuing us, it's hunger that drives us, dire poverty.

There are countries where people sleep in their beds and dream.

Here, you see, we walk and we kill and we die

Here, each one of us knows what he wants, what he does when he passes by;

Friend, if you fall, a friend comes from the shadows in your place.

Tomorrow, black blood will dry in the sun on the roads

Whistle, companions, in the night, freedom listens to us.

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Here is an English translation, which can be sung to the same tune:

My friend, do you hear the dark flight of the crows over our plains?
My friend, do you hear the dulled cries of our countries in chains?

Oh, friends, do you hear, workers, farmers, in your ears alarm bells ringing?
Tonight all our tears will be turned to tongues of flame in our blood singing!

Climb up from the mine, out from hiding in the pines, all you comrades,
Take out from the hay all your guns, your munitions and your grenades;

Hey you, assassins, with your bullets and your knives, kill tonight!
Hey you, saboteurs, be careful with your burden, dynamite!

We are the ones who break the jail bars in two for our brothers,
hunger drives, hate pursues, misery binds us to one another.

There are countries where people sleep without a care and lie dreaming.
But here, do you see, we march on, we kill on, we die screaming.

But here, each one knows what he wants, what he does with his choice;
My friend, if you fall, from the shadows on the wall, another steps into your place.

Tomorrow, black blood shall dry out in the sunlight on the streets.
But sing, companions, freedom hears us in the night still so sweet.

My friend, do you hear the dark flight of the crows over our plains?
My friend, do you hear the dulled cries of our countries in chains?

lyrics copied from Wikipedia