Lord, you alone created all things,

you said let them be and they were;

earthquakes occur by your will,

you arrange their trembling;

mountains stand by your will

to crush us if we deny you.

Peace!

You rain floods on our dwellings,

scourge us with whirlwinds to bring us to know you.

Peace!

This earthquake's your sign of future destruction

if we don't repair our ways.

Listen, Joburg: if you deny me

you'll burn like paper in storm after storm.

Mercy!

Don't you see what this is, my people,

this thrashing quirt of an earthquake?

In this quake Jehovah addresses us,

distressed, a Creator abandoned.

Earthquake, slow in approach,

older than even the sun!

Earthquake, the voice of Jehovah,

urging return to virtue!

Earthquake, tumbling anthills;

oh! the nation's mountains turn to each other!

Earthquake, the voice of Jehovah,

releasing springs for you to drink,

cracking a whip when you spurn him:

you'll die like flies if you don't all come back to him!

Mercy!

Take care, Joburg, you will be consumed

by the rager like fire on the move.

Earthquake, a knock at your door,

condemning your sins to correct you.

Mercy!

Do you heed this earthquake here in Johannesburg?

It whips fear into those who know.

Joburg, watch out when its blow seals your fate:

your Sodom and Gomorrah sink as you throttle Jehovah.

Under the soil lie treasures:

white elders are quick to break contracts.

Peace!

Take care, Joburg: an earthquake buries you.

Peace, sturdy child of farflung Africa, can you hear this earthquake's

wailing?

Take care, Joburg, there it is:

a quake with a black club threatens you,

a wild beast awaiting your move,

sinners its only prey.

Earthquake, the hand of Jehovah,

knocking at your door!