The Bredevoort anthem is the local anthem of the Gelderland town of Bredevoort. The words and music were written in the early twentieth century by poet and organist Gerrit Rijks (24 March 1905 – 17 September 1987). From 1921 until 1984 Rijks was organist of St George’s Church. The song is still regularly performed on official occasions.
Lyrics
Between the wet and low-lying fields, between the rustling corn,
There lies the old lordship, so often named in history.
There where, in the distant past, so very much was suffered,
There too, for our freedom, bitter battles were fought.
There where once my parents lived, where joy and sorrow were shared,
There where King Unity reigned and discord found no place.
There where people knew each other and always understood,
Where every need found an open door and burdens were borne together.
Outside this beloved little town, with its ramparts and its moat,
Lie lush green meadows and woods of great beauty.
There you hear the choirs of birds, gentle, lovely and undisturbed,
There nature smiles upon you, always delighting the walker.
Though in the course of time so much of old has disappeared,
The much-praised spirit of unity will surely never fade.
People value one another’s efforts and understand each other’s task,
And fulfil their duties to their neighbours as the most natural thing in the world.
Bredevoort, my old little town, with your many children,
Rosy-cheeked and glowing with health, always cheerful and ready to help.
You are the hope of the future; live your lives as you should,
And think with pride of the past of our renowned Bredevoort.
Bredevoort, my old little town, what nature gives us here
Cannot, plainly enough, be found in the great cities.
And so my heartfelt wish, and that of everyone who hears it, shall be:
‘Long live my beloved little town, long live my Bredevoort!’
Bredevoort, my old little town, Bredevoort, my cherished child,
Bredevoort, my beloved place, Bredevoort, friend of children,
Bredevoort, friend of the old, Bredevoort, home to us all.
Bredevoort, my old little town, Bredevoort, my Bredevoort.
Where craftsmen ply their trades and the industrious farming folk
Work the land without pause or weariness, with a steady hand,
Where, in complete freedom, opinion and belief are respected,
And another person’s knowledge is honoured with fitting respect.