The far cry from the eastern hills
Echoing through the land of the Nagas.
Tis once a land of joy and laughter
Yet the Indian Army denies it all.

The devil has arrived to this land again,
This time in their uniform and with guns,
Thirsty for blood, the blood of the Nagas,
Claiming souls as they march on.

In this green hills and valeys
The friends of hill people turned to foe,
Stalking you from afar,
Spraying bullets as you pass by.

My brothers fell one by one,
On that fateful day of 4th Dec night,
Screaming out in pain and agony,
As the Indian army empty their magazine.

What wrong did the coal miners do?
To be sprayed with bullets in that manner.
They were heading back to their loved ones
With their earnings of a hand full.

For a better life he said,
When he walked out that peaceful home,
As her daughter make a list for Christmas
And his wife smiled and waved.

Not knowing he would never return,
Alas! Their family left shattered.
Underneath the bright star above their home,
Their sons and daughters and wife wept.

Oh, what gain do you get?
For the pain you inflict.
The tears from our eyes
Will remain wet on the ground.

Will our lives be just gone in vain?
Will our voices be heard and answered?
O brethren, let us unite with one voice
For the cause of innocent blood spilled

Nagaland mourns the death of our brothers
This day we will not forget.
Our tears will remain wet on the ground
Till justice is served.
KUKNALIM

Lipok Jamir.