Poem by Marc Aupiais
Gold and Green,
The colours of a hope.
Die perde en die vuurwapens.
Die nasie van ons lewenskappe.
And I look into my memories.
Die perde in my badkamer!
And into the top draw of my old closet!
Die donker plek!
Waar ek kan nie gaan nie.
And there, a carriage.
For a perd.
And I wonder.
My love for horses.
And this old cart.
Die donker dag.
Die donker nag.
Die vuurwapen gaan agter die nasie.
And at us Gold and Green.
Are we that different?
Than those:
Whom we are taught to hate?
End die perde gaan weg.
Hulle Hardloop.
Die kat loop.
En sy groot vriende gaan agter die perd.
We are different.
I think.
As the history,
Our wars, our blood.
Gold in the ground.
Green in the trees where good men fell.
And yet!
Though different,
Parts of our stories,
Chapter: na ander mense se boeke.
Part of our lives!
Are not that set apart.
Gold and Green.
Not red white or blue.
Gold and Green.
Not yellow, that sheen.
Gold and Green.
The colour of our people.
Different from any other.
Yet not utter.
Complimentary.
But not through flattery!
Learn our lesson!
We love all: our brother.
Red, White, yellow, Gold, blue or Blou.
Broken is hope.
Until there is love's hope's faith's found!
