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IA MUSICA In the clear waters where it all began, The Arawak people baptized their history. But destiny brought iron and chains, Transforming the island into a soil of seed. From Xaymaca to Jamaica, the cry was heard, In the blood of those who never, never gave up. From the mountains came the echo of freedom, Nanny of the Maroons facing cruelty. Warriors of the forest, cunning in ambush, Against the empire, they continued their journey. They were not slaves, they were kings in prayer, Seeking the path to their own redemption. Time passed and the struggle changed its face, Marcus Garvey said: "May your people rise and be born." African pride, awareness and valor, Healing the wounds of centuries of pain. One love, one heart beating, So that the black man could finally find himself. Through the streets of Kingston, the rhythm came alive, The voice of the oppressed, the resolute soul. Ska turned to rocksteady, reggae flourished, The message of peace that the world received. Like the sun shining after the storm, We sing of life and our truth. It's not just the dance, it's not just the sway, It's the strength of a people who don't want rest. Between poverty and the light of the Creator, We overcame fear with much more praise. Jamaica, small, but gigantic in faith, Maintaining pride and standing tall. So look up and feel the vibration, History written with our own hands. From Trenchtown to the world, victory arrived, Where the oppressed finally broke free. Shine, Jamaica, with your immortal fire, A hymn of struggle, an ancestral song.