I am of Gelderland blood; By the oaks, at the top of the hills, I grew up.
In a field without a job,
I learned to hunt in apron,
My first steps are taken.
My arm is the formidable game:
The roe deer does not help to run,
They are not sharp teeth,
If, in my threatening helm,
A quick death ignites.
/>I do not despise the laurel,
Which the choir of Peace offers,
But treasure another more!
The wreath earned by the sword,
Is also a wreath of honor!
And I buckle on the armor,
I follow no stranger:
On Rossem's heroic trail,
I float, in radiant light,
The image of victory.
I am of Gelderland blood!
My heart is sincere;
I enjoy simplicity:
With splendor and wealth comes care;
Sufficiency brings peace.

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