Ere the Bethlehem star rose
To herald the new born State and
Hope and joy
To all citizens
Of this sacred land
This land promised
To us by our forefathers
This smiling land;
One lonely star,
Having traversed the troubled
Skies of Zimbabwe,
Set to rest.
Now darkness and gloom
Pervade this still born
Ill-fated nation.
Rest, troubled soul, Ndabaningi.
Rest Musharukwa, rest Chirandu
And know;
That the flame you kindled
Will perpetually burn
Like a lighthouse beacon,
For ever guiding
This floundering ship
To its destiny . . .
The beckoning shores
Of Zimbabwe.
And every child’s first utterance
Shall be
“We are our own liberators”