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I hear a turtle dove cooing sadly. I see a Boer with a rusted rifle. Yes, I see a man with his mouth silenced. While the Devil peeks at him mockingly, his wife and child are carried away to torture camps.

I hear the words of his song: You, oh Raca, have ordered me around on every terrain. From every angle you have spied on me. In murder upon murder, you have mutilated and destroyed me. You have killed me with my own weapon.

I see a Boer, he looks old and ancient. He sighs and says: I am indeed completely finished. With my cattle mutilated, stolen, kidnapped. My sheds are standing empty without grain or food. From early until late, the thief and robbers are lurking, spying on my farm. With my land taken, I have no border or contour.

You, oh Raca, have ordered me around on every terrain. From every corner you have spied on me. In abomination-murder upon murder, you have mutilated and destroyed me. Killed me with my own weapon. My total existence feel so lost and in vain.

Therefore you, oh cursed land, has nothing to offer me anymore. But courageously I will now offer my sad song to my God. Therefore, woe to the day of the good-for-nothing and the useless parasite. Woe also to every white liberal, their life and striving were completely in vain. Soon there will also be nothing for them to enjoy.

Look, as example it begins in Mozambique. Through Africa it spreads from politician to the poor man in the street. Bring the deadly mosquito now, to dictate together with the pestilence. Know, oh white man, you have little resistance to give. On the back of the Black Horse, pestilence and famine come, yes together with drought, locust and mite.