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We ask not the pleasure that riches supply Our weapons shall regain What betrayers must buy Throwing back the invaders Reigning our land and waves And finally teach these nobles What it means to be slaves
Far more large in numbers Better armed they came But are it not our cities That these rascals claimed? A victory rather certain They held within their hands But courage, craft and justice Gave us a stronger hand
Bloodstained flags Hear our men roar But under foreign rule Bloodstained flags Hear our men roar We shall suffer no more
We shall suffer no more!
“Het Vlaamse heir staat immer pal Daar ’t winnen of daar ’t sterven zal Alhier, aldaar aan lange lansen De leeuwen dansen, de leeuwen dansen”
Oh, land of the Flanders From field to shore Shall view us as victors
Oh, land of the Flanders From field to shore Shall view us as victors Or view us no more!
For victory was ours against all odds Truly a miracle in a world without gods
Bloodstained flags Hear our men roar But under foreign rule Bloodstained flags Hear our men roar We shall suffer no more
We shall suffer no more!
(I close my eyes. A voice from a century buried by time and dust teaches my ears. And the troubadour sings:)
“Het Vlaamse heir staat immer pal Daar ’t winnen of daar ’t sterven zal Alhier, aldaar aan lange lansen De leeuwen dansen, de leeuwen dansen”
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