Versamelde gedigte

Chant of the freed peoples

Much have we suffered and borne in the years of our sorrow.
Nights have we moaned through that promised us never a morrow.

Fear crushed us, and doubt

Put reason that heartened to rout,

And left us no hope we could borrow.

Pain that dismays, and despair that unmans, were our master.
Freedom lay trampled and dead where our tyrants had cast her.

There loomed like a pall,

All day and all night, o'er us all

The shadow of death and disaster.

Time was for us but the frightening fetters that bound us
Fast to the discords of life that combined to confound us;

And anguish and dread,

O'ermastering, grew daily and bred

The horrors of hell all around us.

Now we have seen the horizon aglow with the breaking
Of a new morning that heralds the end of our aching

Pain-encompassed years,

That brought us no harvest but tears

Too poignant for charity's slaking.

This is the day of deliverance for which we have waited
Through the hard torment of high expectations frustrated.

The long night is done.

The fight that seemed hopeless is won,

And Freedom, redeemed, recreated.

March, 1945.