Li erdê sor tu berçav dibî,
Ciyaye bilind bi asman re tê xwe dikin,
Kevokên sipî li nav agirê,
Bi navê te xwîşk, hêvîyê re digerin.
Rojê zer bi heşt û yek şemal,
Azadî didire her mal û xal,
Li ser çiyayê, li ser dereyan,
Tacê te ye, ey Kurdistan.
Çiyayên mezin, nekin û giran,
Wekî parastinên bêxwe dan,
Serê wan li asman, rîya wan ne qediya,
Binên wan têkoşîn, bi agirê Newroza.
Her gul ku hatiye şan û xwe kirin,
Ji ber xewn û êş hatin derxistin,
Kilam û xezal bi hêvî tên nivîsandin,
Wekî bihar her dem nû didin.
Welatê delal, welatê mezin,
Stranê her dil û her jinan—
Upon the crimson earth you rise,
A land of mountains touching skies,
Where doves take flight through fields of flame,
And whisper softly your proud name.
The golden sun with twenty-one rays,
Casts light of freedom through the haze,
It warms the stone, the stream, the pine,
It crowns your soul, O Kurdistan, mine.
The mountains stand, both fierce and tall,
Guardians that shall never fall,
Their peaks like hearts that never tire,
Their roots still glowing with Newroz fire.
Each flower woven, each thread spun,
Tells of battles lost, yet never undone,
A tapestry stitched with hope and pain,
Yet always reborn, like springtime rain.
Beloved homeland, fierce and grand,
Forever strong, forever stand,
Your spirit sings in every man—