My Country, My Land, My People
The kimberlite ore of the North yields a bounty
by Phan Thanh gian
But would not bring me a single brilliant hope
Western wheat fields spread as far as wide
Yet my People go to bed hungry
Schools of fish once swarmed the Grand Banks
Now it could not bring me a decent catch
From my ancestors, I inherited this Great Land
Yet I found no shelter,
Among its thickest concrete jungles.
From the corn first sown by my forefathers...
Bring satisfactions to herds of cattle
And I... without a single cob.
Please let me dance in the Rain
I will sing in my earnest voice,
With an empty drum by my side
And my sorrows will be washed away
By the sacred Spirits of my ancestors
The wild grass will grow tall again
While the Eagle stretches its wings on the horizon.