1. My brother, through the ropes of whips
And from the rings of heavy shackles

2. Look to the homeland of the toilers
And they hanged him with the black ropes

3. And wrapped him in tattered rags
And threw him into the depths of the pits

4. And heaped heavy soil over him
As if he had not been in the spring of his life

5. My brother, through the dreary wall
And from the holes of darkness and rubble

6. Look to the sunken eyes
That hung from the ceilings of tents

7. My brother, from here the sparks will walk
My brother, from here the floods will flow

8. Sweeping away our chains and fetters
And the killed will avenge his killers

9. So we will ring our bells and drums
And we will not plough the earth for the satiated

10. Blood flows on every mud
But for our hungry children

11. Who have filled their stomachs with soil
And we will not fetch drops of rain

12. And we will not content ourselves with tree roots
But with all the luscious fruit

13. We watered it until it was saturated and flourished