Bring me a peasant bring me a saint
For the difference is way too small
Bring me a life of a king or heir
For I shall not bow to their thrown
Years in despair and years in hunger
Pain and suffering weathered my home
Tears from the heart and tears from soul
Years shall not tare me from my dome
Painted in ideals of colours and more
The island of Mahal Dhebe float adore
Shame misfortune and hatred has sprung
In our islands of Mahal Dhebe
Mothers of our fathers gave birth and thought
To not a child but a family adhere
Pious empires’ versus the peasant king
Honours withheld by sword and wit
Oh brothers and sister of the isles of Mahal Dhebe
Do not forget where we have been
For it is in our past we shall foothold
To remember the blood shed for our cause
Future is only what we make
Innocence is lost but not in shame
It is not too late for the tears to be swept
Remember the peace and respect
