Walk the fields of memory
an inheritance in tears of joy,
wisdom and patience
and watch the moon, she knows
of the old people before us.
Motherland, land mother
such is the passion
with whom I worship you.
The ocean that feeds us
the sky that brings us the rain
the land where our ancestors rest.
The sea's breeze whispered to me
a welcome when I was born.
The mountains' wind will always keep
a farewell for when I need it so.
My spirit is attached
to this very soil I step on.
No matter how far I may've reached
there's only one place where I belong.
Motherland, land mother
such is the emotion
with whom I love you.
Out from the woods,
fallen from the clouds
and risen from the rivers,
Mothertongue, sung anew
such is the quiet fire
and the intimate alphabet
with whom I celebrate you.
