Vrome vad're, fier en groot
Deur vervolging, ramp en nood,
was hul leuse, tot die dood:
Vryheid! Vryheid!

Erf'nis van hul moed en trou
is die grond waar ons op bou.
Juigend tot die hemel-blou:
Vryheid! Vryheid!

Ere wie die dood mag lei
om te rus aan hulle sy,
met die sterwenswoord te skei:
Vryheid! Vryheid!

Op dan, broers, en druk hul spoor,
voorwaarts, broers, die vaandel voor,
laat die veld ons krygsroep hoor:
Vryheid! Vryheid!

Woes geweld mag hoogty hou,
kettings mag ons lede knou,
maar die leuse bly ons trou:
Vryheid! Vryheid!

Jukke mag vir slawe wees,
manneharte ken geen vrees,
duld geen boei vir lyf of gees:
Vryheid! Vryheid!

Now the English translation:
Pious fathers (ancestors), proud and brave
Through persecution, disaster and need
their motto, to the death, was:
Freedom! Freedom!

The heritage of their courage and faith
is the land we build on.
Joyful to the blue heavens:
Freedom! Freedom!

Honours to those led by death
to rest at its side,
uttering their final word:
Freedom! Freedom!

Up, then, brothers, and follow their tracks,
forwards, brothers, the banner in front,
may the veld hear our battle cry:
Freedom! Freedom!

Brutal force might with the day,
chains may chafe our limbs,
but to this motto we are faithful:
Freedom! Freedom!

Yokes may be for slaves,
the hearts of men know no fear,
tolerating no shackles for body or soul:
Freedom! Freedom!