Bind up your bleeding wounds.
It is not your fault, but ours,
That blows have fallen to cause you shame.
There is no land better than you.
Your idealism still holds hope for us.
Your wounds will heal.
We, your people will learn.

Hold your head high, oh Land of Lands
You are the land of the brave.
Your scars will make your freedom bells more mellow
And to ring louder and clearer for all.
Oh, Land of lands, we, your people love you.