Don't Rain Tears Mama Liberia, poetry by William Tubman at

Don’t Rain Tears Mama Liberia

Don’t Rain Tears Mama Liberia

written by: William Tubman


Although we are being strangulated by our leader
And our beloved land is now foe breeder.
Although our beloved land have endured bad adventures
And her fame laid in fire drizzling dust.
Don’t rain tears Mama Liberia.
For the times of peril will gradually fade away
And the evil of man will have his goodbye say.
Like the love birds held hands under the moon.
So we shall be as kings and queens on our thrones.

Although she stands as treasure of false hope
lauded by emotional overslope and our glory mists away beyond the glittering scope.
Although the world no longer lets us love
And our hearts are framed with pillars of loss.
Don’t rain tears mama Liberia.
For the brighter ones are not yet born,
but the robes of happiness will become our early morning song.
The future awaits the heavenly colors of paradise,
while the masses flower whistles tunes of their hearts.

Although our dreams are cook pots filled with ashes
And our desires are pestered with unending lashes.
Although she no longer hearken to our pleads that overpower the oceans
And the cries of the masses buried within her bosom.
Don’t rain tears mama Liberia.
For the colors of paradise shine above the sky,
In pursuit of solace from the daybreak rise.
The moments of the ancient -normal day breaks through the gloomy paths
And the sunshine of the past will cross at last.

Although the sluggish growth of our nation down plays our communion with the holy spirit
And the soaring souls bestowed in sin as ghosts are infinite.
Although our hands are vulnerable to torture
And our heritage is now a diverse culture.
Don’t rain tears mama Liberia.
For there will be a sign of the rainbow
And the laughter from my kinsmen will form an airflow.
The powerful wind will make the star twinkle
and all our wishes will sprinkle.

Although she beheld our breaths laid in her caskets
And quenched our love for education within her baskets.
Although she gives us bitter spirits of sad images
And agonizes our minds with savoring damages.
Don’t rain tears mama Liberia.
For the sky is our blanket of pure consolation
And our minds will no longer be a land of devastation.
She will give us lands of eternal dwelling place
And her heart will no longer nourish us with waste.

Latest posts by William Tubman (see all)