Let it not spoil when it comes from Nimba,
Let it also be fine when it comes from Nimba,
Let calmness prevail when it comes from Nimba,
Let peacefulness sail when it comes from Nimba,
Let der-gbey-ler go away when it comes from Nimba,
Let there not be deep division when it comes from Nimba.
My ears are quietly weeping and gnashing,
My eyes are quietly weeping and weeping,
My heart is quietly weeping and weeping,
My face is gradually losing its beaming smile,
My happiness is being reduced day by day.
It is because Nimba is becoming noisy—
Noise from the many der-gbey-ler camps,
Noise from the many opposition camps,
Noise born out of the greed for political power,
Noise that is offending the ears of our forebears.
I can see sadness in the faces of the rivers,
I can see the birds are no longer flying happily,
I can feel the mountains silently mourning,
And I can hear the forests whispering in pain.
Nimba, my beloved land,
Let not political ambition divide you.
Let not power turn brother against brother.
Let wisdom rise above political noise,
And let peace once again become your language.
For when Nimba cries,
Her children should listen.
When Nimba trembles,
Her children should unite.
And when Nimba calls for peace,
Let every son and daughter answer.
