Oh dark dark night, where a dying nation’s soul is wasting away. Oppressed, trampled by an entire world, already despised for so long. Murdered, raped, with nothing left to laugh over for so long. Therefore grant us Oh God just a little power to await the coming of Your great day with hope.

Oh dark dark night, with every day another Boer killed – cruelly slaughtered while Raca scornfully laughs over this while he delights in his bloody hunt. Therefore grant us Oh God just a little power to still honour you above all else despite everything.

Oh dark night, with a yoke so heavy, yes too heavy the load. Through the sins of the fathers the children have no future to expect. So another mineshaft is sunk in your soil, Oh South Africa, through world-violation, and dying Oh beautiful country your God-given beauty withers away.   Oh dark dark night, too great the oppression- the onslaught. The harvest is empty, the orchard without fruit. With the Boer weakened, he has no power anymore – everyone is after his land, but before the world he stands without a justified charge, already guilty, so under suspicion.   Oh dark dark night, grant us Oh God, just a little more power. Send the angel of death with the command, through this raise the flag half-mast. Let an earth-plate fall with a bang so that Raca will look around bewildered while they slaughter each other bloodily. Wipe the tears from our eyes and remind us consoling and soft who will stay the chosen nation, who hopefully has to keep on awaiting Your coming.