The sacred soul from our ancestors/ Still imprints the green color of our homeland, oh fields!
Listen to the story of flowers and grass
The green distance stretches to the end of the sky
Thousands of white lotus flowers without words
Send fragrance to the dry land, life will still be fragrant
Listen to the story of straw
A thousand years of debt to the rice of my homeland
Turn into smoke of love
Return ashes to the land of silent birth
Listen to the barefoot footprints
The worn out parrot has accumulated mud and soaked for four seasons.
Bruised nails cling to acid sulfate fields
Foot prints more rice grains just added flowers
Listen to the story of the storm
Sweat of betting is immense and overflowing
Every time the storm just passed
I heard the earth stir with countless sprouts
Quietly listen to the story of this land
Holding bones under the grass, telling the story of a long time ago
Sacred soul from the ancestors
Still printed the blue color of my homeland!
NGUYEN VAN SONG