Yet a new year, new dawn
It is a new era, new morn
New times, a new season.
Happy new year to the slaves
Those who cannot choose their fates
Arise and make hay, sing freedom songs.
Raise your voices you dumb
Walk tall all you without a limb
Be jubilant like a protected cub.
The lord is ever good, and kind
He Rains His rain not only to the good
He provides, trust in Him for food.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem