Der er et yndigt land

Danish lyrics

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 bautasten :|

Det land endnu er skønt,

thi blå sig søen bælter,

og løvet står så grønt :|

Og ædle kvinder, skønne møer

og mænd og 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 :|

Short version

The lines sung at sporting events etc. are normally confined to:

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 :|

Vort gamle Danmark skal bestå,

så længe bøgen spejler

sin top i bølgen blå :|

Free metrical translation

There is a lovely land

with spreading, shady beech-trees,

Near salty eastern shore :|

Its hills and valleys gently fall,

its name is old Denmark,

And it is Freya's hall :|

There in the ancient days

sat armoured Vikings rested

Between their bloody frays :|

Then they went forth the foe to face,

now found in stone-set barrows,

Their final resting place :|

This land is still as fair,

the sea is blue around it,

And peace is cherished there :|

Strong men and noble women still

uphold their country's honour

With faithfulness and skill :|

Hail king and fatherland!

Hail every Danish citizen,

who is doing the best he can :|

Our old Denmark shall endure,

as long as the beech trees reflect

its top in the blue wave  :|

Literal translation

There is a lovely country

it stands with broad beech-trees,

near the salty eastern shore

It bends itself in hill, valley,

its name is ancient Denmark

and it is the hall of Freya

There sat in former times,

the armour-suited warriors,

rested from conflict

Then they went forward to the enemies' injury,

now their bones are resting

behind the mound's menhir

That country is still lovely,

because the sea waves so blue frolic,

and the foliage stands so green

And noble women, beautiful maidens,

and men and brisk swains

inhabit the Danes' islands

Hail king and fatherland!

Hail every a Dane-citizen,

who works, what he can

Our old Denmark shall endure,

as long as the beech-tree reflects

its top in the blue wave

Original Danish lyrics

Der er et yndigt Land,

Det staaer med brede Bøge

Nær salten Østerstrand;

Det bugter sig i Bakke, Dal,

Det hedder gamle Danmark,

Og det er Freias Sal.

Der sad i fordums Tid

De harniskklædte Kæmper,

Udhvilede fra Strid;

Saa drog de frem til Fienders Meen,

Nu hvile deres Bene

Bag Høiens Bautasteen.

Det Land endnu er skiønt,

Thi blaa sig Søen belter,

Og Løvet staaer saa grønt;

Og ædle Qvinder, skiønne Møer,

Og Mænd og raske Svende

Beboe de Danskes Øer.

Vort Sprog er stærkt og blødt,

Vor Tro er reen og luttret

Og Modet er ei dødt.

Og hver en Dansk er lige fri,

Hver lyder tro sin Konge,

Men Trældom er forbi.

Et venligt Syd i Nord

Er, grønne Danarige,

Din axbeklædte Jord.

Og Snekken gaaer sin stolte Vei.

Hvor Ploug og Kiølen furer,

Der svigter Haabet ei.

Vort Dannebrog er smukt,

Det vifter hen ad Havet

Med Flagets røde Bugt.

Og stedse har sin Farve hvid

Dit hellige Kors i Blodet,

O Dannebrog, i Strid.

Karsk er den Danskes Aand,

Den hader Fordoms Lænker,

Og Sværmeriets Baand.

For Venskab aaben, kold for Spot,

Slaaer ærlig Jydes Hierte,

For Pige, Land og Drot.

Jeg bytter Danmark ei,

For Ruslands Vinterørkner,

For Sydens Blomstermai.

Ei Pest og Slanger kiende vi,

Ei Vesterlandets Tungsind,

Ei Østens Raseri.

Vor Tid ei staaer i Dunst,

Den hævet har sin Stemme

For Videnskab og Kunst.

Ei Bragis og ei Mimers Raab

Har vakt i lige Strækning

Et bedre Fremtids Haab.

Ei stor, vor Fødestavn,

Dog hæver sig blandt Stæder

Dit stolte Kiøbenhavn.

Til bedre By ei Havet kom,

Ja ingen Flod i Dalen,

Fra Trondhiem og til Rom.

Med hellig Varetægt

Bevare du, Alfader!

Vor gamle Kongeslægt.

Kong Fredrik ligner Fredegod;

Hvor er en bedre Fyrste,

Af bedre Helteblod?

Hil Drot og Fædreland!

Hil hver en Danneborger,

Som virker hvad han kan.

Vort gamle Danmark skal bestaae,

Saalænge Bøgen speiler

Sin Top i Bølgen blaa.

English Translation

There is a lovely land

it stands with broad beeches

near the salty eastern beach

It winds itself in hill, valley,

it is called old Denmark

and it is Freyja's hall

There sat in former times,

the armour-suited warriors,

rested from conflict

Then they set out to inflict damage on enemies,

now their bones are resting

behind the mound's menhir

That country is still lovely,

because the sea waves so blue frolic,

and the foliage stands so green

And noble women, beautiful maidens,

and men and brisk swains

inhabit the Danes' islands

Our language is strong and soft,

Our faith is pure and purified

And courage is not dead.

And each a Dane is equally free,

Each faithfully obeys his/her king,

But slavery is over.

A friendly South in the North

Is the green Dane-realm,

Your ax-clad Earth.

And the ship walks its proud way.

Where the plow and the keel furrows

There, hope does not fail.

Our Dannebrog is beautiful

It fans along the sea

With the red bay of the flag.

And always has its white colour

Your holy cross in blood,

O flag of Denmark in battle.

Pure is the Danes' Spirit

It hates Prejudice's fetters,

And fascination's ties.

For friendship open, cold for mockery

Beats the Jutlander's honest heart,

For girl, country and king.

I would not swap Denmark,

For Russia's winter deserts,

For the flower-May of the south.

We do not know plague and serpents

Nor the melancholy of the west

Nor the rage of the east.

Our time does not stand in reek,

It has raised its voice

For science and arts.

Not Bragi's and not Mímir's cry

Aroused in equal stretch

A better hope for the future.

Not large, our birth-place,

However, among cities does soar

Your proud Copenhagen.

To better City did the sea not come

Indeed, no river in the valley;

From Trondhiem and to Rome.

With holy custody

You will preserve, All-father!

Our old dynasty.

King Frederick resembles Fredegod;

Where is a better prince

Of better hero blood?

Hail king and fatherland!

Hail every a Dane-citizen,

who works what he can

Our old Denmark shall endure,

as long as the beech reflects

its top in the blue wave