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Versie vir 'n Afrikaner

Die Afrikaner is my broer,
wat my net wil sien op die vloer,
sy beeste en sy skape moet ek voer,
terwyl hy met rugby en krieket toer.
Tog is die Afrikaner my broer.

My vrou moet in die kombuis kook
terwyl ek op die lande spook.
Ou Klaas moet sien dat die skoorsteen rook
anders word die sitvlak met stewels bestook.
Tog is die Afrikaner my broer.

As ek saans gaan lê en slaap
is my bene lam en oë vaak,
maar genade is daar nie vir my,
dou-voor-dag moet die beeste wei.
Tog is die Afrikaner my broer.

As hy met vakansie gaan
moet ek my plesier laat staan
vir sy boerdery se voortbestaan
en 'n dop vir my vanaand.
Tog is die Afrikaner my broer.

(Translation kindly provided by Leigh Thorsen)

Afrikaner, you are my brother,
Who wants to see me on the floor,
I feed your cattle and your sheep
While you, you're off on your cricket and your rugby tour.
Still, the Afrikaner is my brother.

My wife, she cooks in the kitchen
While I toil upon the land.
Old Klaas had better get the fire going
Or feel your boot upon his bum.
Still, the Afrikaner is my brother.

When I go to bed at night and sleep
My legs are weary, my eyes are dim,
But night brings me no mercy,
By daybreak the cattle must be fed.
Still, the Afrikaner is my brother.

And when he's off on holiday
I must forego my pleasure
For his farming must go on.
Tonight there'll be a dop* for me.
Still, the Afrikaner is my brother.

dop = some booze