Paroles et traduction Laurika Rauch - Septemberland

Septemberland

Nêrens was Septemberland
Al ooit so mooi gewees
Soos hierdie dorre akkerrand
Se wildevygiefees
Want nêrens lê die pad so lank
Waar soutslaai in September rank
Waar madeliefies koppies swaai
By middaglui se windpomp draai

Vir jou nie die lower van bergland se wei
Vir jou nie die tower van varings en vlei
Vir jou gee ek yster en dorsland se vaal
Vir jou gee ek kliprant en yl bossies kaal
Die soet van die aandblom en blou diamant
Vir jou gee ek pag oor Namakwaland

En soms dink ek die Heer het self
Die bedding afgesteek En toe het hy met milde hand
Die reënboog oopgebreek
Raak hy sy kind wat bakhand kyk
Na witkopwolk wat nimmer wyk
En fluister hy met oostewind
Die akker is vir jou my kind

Vir jou nie die lower van bergland se wei
Vir jou nie die tower van varings en vlei
Vir jou gee ek yster en dorsland se vaal
Vir jou gee ek kliprant en yl bossies kaal
Die soet van die aandblom en blou diamant
Vir jou gee ek pag oor Namakwaland

Vir jou nie die lower van bergland se wei
Vir jou nie die tower van varings en vlei
Vir jou gee ek yster en dorsland se vaal
Vir jou gee ek kliprant en yl bossies kaal
Die soet van die aandblom en blou diamant
Vir jou gee ek pag oor Namakwaland

Septemberland

Nowhere was Septemberland
Ever so beautiful
As this dry field's edge
Its wild fig celebration
For nowhere does the path lie so long
Where purslane curls in September
Where daisies sway their heads
At midday by the windmill's spin

For you, not the foliage of the mountain moor
For you, not the magic of ferns and marsh
For you, I give iron and the pallor of the thirsty land
For you, I give rocky slopes and sparse, bare bushes
The sweetness of the evening flower and blue diamond
For you, I give contentment over Namaqualand

And sometimes I think the Lord himself
Marked out the riverbed And then with gentle hand
Unfurled the rainbow
He touches his child who gazes with cupped hands
At the white-headed cloud that never retreats
And he whispers with the east wind
The field is yours, my child

For you, not the foliage of the mountain moor
For you, not the magic of ferns and marsh
For you, I give iron and the pallor of the thirsty land
For you, I give rocky slopes and sparse, bare bushes
The sweetness of the evening flower and blue diamond
For you, I give contentment over Namaqualand

For you, not the foliage of the mountain moor
For you, not the magic of ferns and marsh
For you, I give iron and the pallor of the thirsty land
For you, I give rocky slopes and sparse, bare bushes
The sweetness of the evening flower and blue diamond
For you, I give contentment over Namaqualand