Eritrea of fiery warriors of the ancestral Savana! On whose river banks far away your beautiful black blood poured valiantly and on the camps.

Tell me Eritrea, is it you I see with your bare chest folding under the agony of pain and bending under the sadle of injustice?

Then a serious voice answered me, 'Impetuous son' the young strong tree down there, that lonely tree lying amongst the withered white flowers... is Eritrea.

Your Eritrea, which with time, will germinate patiently and steadfastly and its fruits little by little will finally acquire the taste of bitter freedom!

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