My country, I can’t stop exalting you!
Your Caribbean winds, your vibrant blue sky,
And the mists that tiptoe down from
the tall and emerald-green mountains
gently covering my town with a blanket.
The lush hill to climb! To go up the mountain bluff!
And see the expanse of the valley below,
From where the Red-tailed Hawk soars higher and higher.
My country, my country, I can’t get enough of you!
Land of the Taíno, where history began on the island;
Here I stand in awe, my vision reaching far—
Lord, I do admire how you made my country so
beautiful; I can’t explain it—the beauty of it
all displayed before me in splendor;
the brilliant red color of Flor de Maga adorns the view,
Please, let me see more of it.