Pia tia jia asü maa,
Maikaa jaa jia wanee juluü.
Pia waneerü, pia aainjira,
Maikira alüjia pia pütchipü ainjala tü maa.
Pia kaa ainjirajü jamüin,
Maikira jia asü anajü kaaina.
Pia jia piama jia wanee,
Pia jia anajü wanee — jia piama aasü, jia wanee tü akua!
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.