I bow before my lovely native land,
On which I born and grow peacefully,
As a flower grows on a tree naturally.

It's not simply a land but my mother,
Which has given me a life full of pleasure,
And there is no matter to be a worrier.

It's mountains teach me to be strong,
During the storms of life,
And streams encourage to sing,
The rhythmic song of life.

Whose winds tell me the glory
of my ancestors' creation,
And the smell of humanity and bravery,
Arises from the soil of this nation.

It's not only the mother of mine,
But also the mother of many patriots,
Whose history always encourages me,
To sacrifice this life for my nation.

How can I describe the role
That this plays in my life?
I can only make the promise
That service to it is the work of my life.