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.[3][4] 𝄇
There is a land we love
with shady beech-trees aspread
𝄆 The briny shores above. 𝄇
Its hills and valleys gently fall,
'Tis the name of ol' Denmark,
𝄆 'Tis good ol' Freya's hall. 𝄇
There in the days of yore
Sat armoured giants rested
𝄆 'Tween their frays of gore 𝄇
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 citizens of honour,
𝄆 Who do the best they can. 𝄇
Our ancient Denmark shall remain,
As long as beech tops mirror
𝄆 In waves of blue their chain! 𝄇
Denmark