The lyrics were written in 1819 by Adam Oehlenschl?er and bore the motto: "Ille terrarum mihi praeter omnes Angulus ridet" (Horace). The music was composed in 1835 by H.E. Kr?er, later arranged by Th. Laub and Carl Nielsen.
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Der sad i fordums tid
de harniskkl?te k?per,
|: udhvilede fra strid :|
S?drog de frem til fjenders m?,
nu hvile deres bene
|: bag h?ens bautasten :|
Det land endnu er sk?t,
ti bl?sig s?n b?ter,
|: og l?et st? s?gr?t :|
Og ?le kvinder, sk?ne m?r
og m?d og raske svende
|: bebo de danskes ?r :|
Hil drot og f?reland!
Hil hver en danneborger,
|: som virker, hvad han kan! :|
Vort gamle Danmark skal best?
s?l?ge b?en spejler
|: sin top i b?gen bl?:|
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 st? med brede b?e
|: n? salten ?terstrand :|
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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