We came as strangers to this land with nothing but our wills;
Our hands were open, and deeds were put therein.
Stone surrendered to our skill, sweat made barrens yield our fill,
We wrought in ice and fire, a home to win!
Chorus 1
Now the black swan rises and she spreads her wings
O'er the hearths of heroes and the halls of kings.
By the valley's richness, by the mountain's snow,
Verse 2
This is our Cynagua - we have made it so!
Blood and spirit bind us to the hills and to the soil
Our hands were open to do and not just try.
Faint hearts never won the spoil - boldness makes the cauldron boil.
We'll feast with fate and dare her to reply!
Verse 3
Welcome, stranger, to our home, the feasting board is laid.
Our hands are open to all who come as friends.
Share our pride in what we've made, but come not with the foeman's blade,
For what the swan has built, the swan defends.