We Are the Children of Hills

We are the children of the hills, so high, Where clouds kiss the forests, and eagles fly. Our songs are woven with love and pride, From Taralangso to Amreng’s side. The drum beats echo through bamboo trees, Dancing with joy in the mountain breeze. Our hearts are brave, our spirits free, Guardians of land, of sky, of tree. Through fields of jhum and rivers wide, We walk with ancestors as our guide. Though times may change, we stand as one, Karbi brothers and sisters — strong as the sun.