These hills silent as they are 

Have seen it all 

Comforted the wretched ones 

And welcomed the brave 

sons and daughters of thy land 

Taking up arms for motherland’s sake

To free her from the bloody yoke of colonialism

These hills silent as they are 

Hold our story in awe.

Yes, these silent hills of Chimoio 

Under their mystic timeless shadows 

I saw images of yesterday

Though I couldn’t shake

Thy General’s hand in honour 

I felt his godly presence in those moments of silence

Here commanders marching mystically in slow motion 

inspecting the guard of honour

The comrades ready to leave for the war front.

These hills silent as they are 

Bear the scars of our time as prisoners of freedom

These hills silent as they are 

Are a story told in silence

Here the foundation of our independence

the land watered by teardrops and blood of our liberators

Here where Nyadzonia River wails and groans still 

As it was yesterday after the treacherous acts of cowardice.

These hills silent as they are 

Are like silos of a thousand dreams

murmuring still 

Their songs are in the wind

Their songs Nyadzonia wails through them day and night  

And their hopes are embbeded in these flowers of thy land.

Simbarashe Clever Kavenga,

Mutare.