In times like today, in whom can we confide?
We arm ourselves for struggles, side by side.
The rifle, a blend of wood and steel so true,
Its beauty set against landscapes we once knew.
I grasp your stock and stroke your barrel's steel,
In my heart, a longing for hope I feel.
With trigger pulled, your rusted age revealed,
Thoughts of days on horseback are now unsealed.
I know you well, you instrument of might,
Wood and steel, together we unite.
The foe beyond the mountain, we shall assail,
My trusty rifle, freedom's tale we shall unveil.
YOU ARE READING
Die Roer
PoetryThis poem read with the correct intonation in afrikaans, reads almost like a passionate poem. A firearm becomes and extension of yourself, it tells a story of yearning for freedom. Translation to the poem provided in part 2.
