Al Betekent Het Mijn Dood

This storm, lighting, fierce winds and monstrous waves. 
 demonic tempest. My men complaining... 
 I command! We set sail! 

 "I beg you my captain! 
 Christ has forbidden to set sail on Easter Sunday!" 

 "What?! Your God?! May he suffocate! May he rot!" 
 Kept the bible close to me. 
 His book of lies I shall n ow cast into the sea. 

 "This is blasphemy!" 

 "You hold your tongue or I'll rip it out 
 and have you hanged for mutiny!" 

 "No! You cannot send us into madness. We shall not obey." 

 With my knife I penetrate his tender throat. 
 I curse in rage: 

 "Godverdomme! Wij zullen vaeren! 
 Al betekent het mijn dood!"