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This is my island in the sun,
Where my people have toiled since time begun;
Though I may sail on many a sea
Her shores will always be home to me.

Oh, island in the sun,
Willed to me by my father's hand.
All my days I will sing in praise
Of your forests, waters, your shining sand.

When morning breaks the heaven on high
I lift my heavy load to the sky;
Sun comes down with a burning glow
That mingles my sweat with the earth below.

I see a woman on bended knee,
Cutting cane for her family.
I see a man at the waterside,
Casting nets at the surging tide.

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Source: Singing Together, Spring 1985, BBC Publications

West Indies, by Harry Belafonte and Lord Burgess.


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