Der er et Yndigt Land
Der er et Yndigt Land (There Is A Lovely Land) is the (civil) national anthem of Denmark. If the royal family is present, the royal anthem Kong Christian stod ved højen mast is used.
The lyrics was written 1819 by Adam Oehlenschläger, with the motto: "Ille terrarum mihi praeter omnes Angulus ridet" (Horace) The music was written 1835 by H.E. Krøyer, later also 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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