Untitled poem about Dutchness

I had forgotten the nationality I had
dreaming the circle stars of gold,
loving the sweet lily leaves in red
but nobody remembered the Republic of old

Living in a country, in between large and small
almost forgotten in the U.S. Of A.
the Union's first friend of all,
Hurt, I knew what to say:

First the three colours: Red, White 'n Blue
and the leader's Orange gold too
Then the old union, much more than one of the seven
more than two of the twelve, once eleven

Oh, Land of liberty, trade, justice and peace,
God's own money, water, wind and the Fries,
dairy cows and a minor state religion
and "Fuck Me" constitution.

Y'aint much if y'ain't Dutch, but better not
slaver, Mokum centrist, forsaking avenger,slayer of the kampong
hypocrite, bureacrate, fugitive's hangman, whore of the rich and strong,
stubborn sinning preacher... Aye, a Dutch hell will be pretty hot.

But still a nation, Yankees at least should know,
They should remember well the oldest of their friends
water and war shaped the Netherlands
but it seemed completely forgotten now.

But then I saw the names of the longears,
I felt honoured, and gone were my fears,
my heart was a red lilly leaf again, forgotten had I , fool:
Holland Lop, Dutch and Netherland, little cuddly rabbits rule!