Sing a song to God Almighty,

glorify and praise him highly,

sing, all you old and young,

sing a new song now.

This great king will be honoured,

while other gods are toppled.

May everyone invoke him widely,

this great Maker who made all.

Agreed!

There Joshua's telling us

to spurn strange gods on pain of death.

We toyed with God while whites looked on:

today our country's affliction itself.

Agreed!

Ah, the sorrow that siezes your land, Nontsizi,

all the things that bring us grief,

recalling our old Mgqwetho kin

wrapped in blankets of skin.

Agreed!

Let yesterday's gods pass away:

their ways ripped out our hearts,

and so we don't know who we are

and our God has completely forsaken us.

Agreed!

Today a host of blacks

have drawn apart from their customs:

they drove them from their homes

in the heat of the summer sun.

Agreed!

You see, my people, we're old,

truth threw us long ago;

my people, we need to be planted and watered

to bring forth the spirit of nationhood.

Agreed!

Agree, herders of Sandile's cattle,

Mshweshwe's and Langalibalele's,

mimosas that twisted in falling.

That rising sun made me think of Shaka.

Mercy, Africa, strife-torn land!

There's little indeed we can take for the truth.

Nitpicking poets, I say,

ignore the grain that pecks the chicken.

All of you know what's going on:

you're patently ringed by lies.

Seek the truth from those above,

who died both here and in the water.

You're the Great God of heaven,

surpassing the white man's cannon.

You're you, the fortress of truth,

you're our defence, shield of truth.