Der er et yndigt land
Der
er et yndigt land,
Det står med brede bøge
Nær salten østerstrand;
Det bugter sig i bakke, dal,
Det hedder gamle Danmark,
Og det er Frejas sal.
Der sad i fordums tid
De harniskklædte kæmper,
Udhvilede fra strid;
Så drog de frem til fjenders mén,
Nu hvile deres bene
Bag højens bavtasten.
Det land endnu er skønt,
Thi blå sig søen bælter,
Og løvet står så grønt;
Og ædle kvinder, skønne mø'r,
Og mænd or raske svende
Bebo de danskes øer.
Hil drot og fædreland!
Hil hver en danneborger,
Som virker, hvad han kan!
Vort gamle Danmark skal bestå,
Så længe bøgen spejler
Sin top i bølgen blå.
|
There is a lovely land
That proudly spreads her beeches
Beside the Baltic strand,
Beside the Baltic strand.
A land that curves in hill and dale,
That men have named Old Denmark,
And this is Freya's hall, and this is Freya's hall.
There sat that earlier day
The heroes in their harness
And rested from the fray;
And rested from the fray;
Then forth they went, the foe they downed,
But now their bones are resting
'Neath bauta-stone and mound,
'Neath bauta-stone and mound.
And still that land is fair,
So blue the seas that belt her,
So green the woodland there;
So green the woodland there;
And noble women, comely girls
And men and lads of mettle
Dwell in the Danish isles,
Dwell in the Danish isles.
|