Who would know that greatness in you,

Maker of heaven and earth,

in you who made the stars and moon,

in you who made the sun and day?

Come, you crushed by the weight of sin.

So say the sands of Tugela's source.

You who've been hounded, ask: you'll receive.

Patiently wait for the living God.

David in troubled times

spilt water from a well,

a libation to Jehovah:

Africa, weep till you shake.

For a long time it's clear you were also poured out:

didn't Ntsikana tell you?

You were robbed of drinking and kingship:

Reds and Christians need passes to travel.

Today our voice is drowned in a whirlwind.

We're left in the dust by learning.

The old voice said, “You're dying, Africa.”

The gainsayers countered: “How can she die?”

Now what can you say? “The country's at war.

Oppression's rampant. Africa's fallen.”

Face the mountains. If you disagreee with me,

bring me down from the mountain.

And so I'll recount some history for you

of the Israelite persecution,

hoping in that way to show you

that they got what they wanted with patient endurance.

Our only strength lies in patience,

you were washed in water and the word of might.

That way wonders are performed,

and the Israelites also wondered.

What has more power than patience?

It vanquished Mpande's armies,

defeated Pharoah and his chariots.

I've said it before, I won't say it again.

Wake, cascade of praise in Africa,

incite Tanganyika wastelands,

spread the news of the Templars,

call out lest we forget.

This hill we scale is steep,

ringed by lions and leopards.

Job didn't sleep the previous night.

You too, be patient; sink to your knees.

Lord, bless Africa.

From the start of time you fell to rise,

you created this earth on which we live,

parted its nations by sea.

We're still patient!!