Upon the mountaintop, where clouds dare to tread,
stands the Citadelle, a fortress of the free,
etched in stone, the echoes of the dead—
our ancestors, who dreamed of liberty
Haiti is the cradle of defiance,
where shackles shattered like ancient dust
here, the soil remembers the rhythm of resilience,
and the winds carry whispers of unyielding trust
Citadelle Laferrière, a beacon bold,
with walls that sing of battles won,
of souls who defied the grip of gold,
and rose with the fire of the Haitian sun
Their spirit is the marrow of our bones,
their courage, the pulse within our veins
they forged a nation from the moans
of oppression, transforming chains into reins
This land is more than history; it’s a hymn,
a symphony of culture, healing, and might
the wealth of our ancestral light flows
from every leaf, from every limb
In the dance of our people, in the beat of our drum,
we reclaim what was taken, what was lost in the night
for we are the children of those who did not succumb—
their strength is our legacy, and their fight is our right
So let us stand as tall as the Citadelle,
with hearts unbowed, with spirits aglow
In every stone, their stories dwell,
a tribute to the strength from which we grow
Haiti, the land of vibrant, healing grace,
your citadel is our ancestral crown
through every trial, every hard-fought place,
our heritage will never back down–
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