Jakon yora bake nocon jato,
Eara bake noti ibo meranti.
Rao jema, xonbë xonbë ainbo,
Jakon yora Ronin xobo mení.
Eara bake niwe amana,
Jaton bake meninonki noa.
Ronin bake chomo jakon jema,
Menin bake kanobo xonbë, menin bake kanobo patin!
The light shines through the broken edge,
Not through proud eyes on glory's ledge.
The humbled soul, the silent cry,
Draws angels down from higher sky.
It's not the strong that move His hand,
But those who fall and choose to stand.
He lifts the low, He shames the high,
The proud will fall, the meek will fly.