The lyrics were written in 1819 by Adam Oehlenschläger and bore the motto: "Ille terrarum mihi praeter omnes Angulus ridet" (Horace). The music was composed in 1835 by H.E. Krøyer, later arranged by Th. Laub and Carl Nielsen.
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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,
ti blå sig søen bælter,
|: og løvet står så grønt :|
Og ædle kvinder, skønne mø'r
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 :|
There was in former times,
the armour-suited warriors,
|: rested from confict :|
Then they marched towards their enemys injury,
now resting their bones
|: behind a large menhir :|
The very land is still lovely,
because the sea waves so blue,
|: and the leafage stands so green :|
And noble women, beautiful maidens,
and men and brisk swains
|: inhabit the danish islands :|
Hail king and fatherland!
Hail any danish townsman,
|: that does what he can do :|
Our old Denmark shall endure,
as long the beech reflects
|: its top in the blue waves :|
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 :|
Approximate translation:
There is a lovely land
it stands with spread beech
|: near the salt eastern sea :|
It's winding it self in hill, valley,
the name is the old Denmark
|: and it is Freja's hall :|
Possibly more accurate translation:
There is a lovely country
it stands with broad beech
|: near the salty eastern beach :|
It winds itself in hill, valley,
its called old Denmark
|: and it is Freja's hall :|
There sat in former times,
the armour-suited giants,
|: rested from confict :|
Then they journied forwards to their enemies injury,
now resting their legs
|: behind the small hill's menhir :|
That country is still lovely,
because the sea waves so blue frollick,
|: and the leafage stands so green :|
And noble women, beautiful maidens,
and men and brisk swains
|: inhabit the danes' islands :|
Hail king and fatherland!
Hail every a townsman,
|: that works, what he can :|
Our old Denmark shall endure,
as long the beech reflects
|: its top in the wave so blue :|
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