Land of the Rising Sun

Land of the rising sun, we love and cherish,
Beloved homeland of our brave heroes;
We must defend our lives or we shall perish,
We shall protect our hearths from all our foes;
But if the price is death for all we hold dear,
Then let us die without a shred of fear.

Hail to Biafra, consecrated nation,
Oh fatherland, this be our solemn pledge:
Defending thee shall be a dedication.
Spilling our blood we'll count a privilege;
The waving standard which emboldens the free
Shall always be our flag of liberty.

We shall emerge triumphant from this ordeal,
And through the crucible unnscathed we'll pass;
When we are poised the wounds of battle to heal,
We shall remember those who died in mass;
Then shall our trumpets peal the glorious song
Of victory we scored o'er might and wrong.

Oh God, protect us from the hidden pitfall,
Gu/de all our movements lest we go astray;
Give us the strength to heed the humanist call:
'To give and not to count the cost', each day;
Bless those who rule to serve with resoluteness,
To make this clime a land of righteousness.