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Bring, oh shelter in the wind, your song that brings so much nostalgia. Among everyone you were reckoned as so insignificant. You were displaced from your heritage, your land. From the bitter cup of slavery you had to drink. With your hands and feet cuffed, without freedom you were bound.

Sing oh Sion sing your song now together with the Cool Evening Breeze. Yes, your song ithat brings so much nostalgia. Look, your tears are brought as precious pearls before the throne of Elohim. As a volk you lie murdered, mutilated. In your sorrow where the world refuse to think about you; you, oh Boer volk, lie deeply sunk away.

Bring oh bring, oh little Boer child, now your song that brings so much nostalgia. While Raca gallivants madly around you, dancing. With his fires burning closer and closer around you Look, his cup is nou filled with his own blood. Yes, with the coastline of Natal that will suddenly sink away under a tsunami.

Therefore sing, oh shelter in the wind, your song that brings so much nostalgia. Know, despite your fall, you were never insignificant before God. Look, from your midst, Silo brings Sion’s wedding ring to her. While the bridegroom beckons his bride closer, so friendly. An angelic choir’s peace-song begins to permeate the creation.

Sing loudly therefore, oh Boervolk, your once-nostalgic song – now your victory song. Your enemy lies at your feet, bound by God Himself. Because you, oh little shelter in the wind, were God’s darling child since eternity.