Mum’s oldest treasure.

Mother of Heroes.

Huts of honour adore your heart,

Hail, O Citadel.

All Professions adore you.

All People cherish you.

Pregnant at all ages,

Prime of intellectuals.

Climate constantly unconducive,

Continuously you churn out icons.

Green is your vegetation,

Great our beautiful leather game.

Behind you are green in colour,

Before harvest you put smiles on faces.

Fifths and ninths are months of honour

Faithfully we sing,

Famous is your great name, O mother of

Heroes.

Blessed are the hands that guide us and

Bells of Glory ring your name O Creator!