C. Boye: 'Sang for Danske'

 

Andersen indicated Weyse’s melody 23 times for poems from 1839 to 1874(!)
Here it is, with ‘Polands Bjærge’ in line 2

 

Above his poem Jylland, included in the collection Fantasier og Skizzer (1831) Andersen cites four lines from the tragedy Svend Grathe, written by C. Boye:

 

Fra Eiderens Strøm til Skagens nøgne Banker

Den Jydske Halvø krummer sig mod Nord; –

Den fede Hjord i Kløverengen vanker,

Og Stimer myldre in den dybe Fjord.

(Sang for Danske)

 

The tragedy dates from 1825, with music by C.E.F. Weyse from 1826. It would seem that Andersen knew all of Boye’s poem, for the ‘tvende have’ (see verse 3) he later immortalised in a poem with the first line ‘Jylland mellem tvende Have’. The fourth verse was included in the Folk High School Song Book until fairly recently, but the fourth verse was omitted, since Denmark lost its southern territories in the mid-19th century. Unfortunately, this also excised the lines about Bornholm.

 

Der er et land, dets sted er højt mod norden

 

Der er et land; dets sted er højt mod Norden,

Og dybets bjerge svømme nær dets havn;

Men skøn som der er ingen plet på jorden,

Og Danmark nævner man dets fagre navn!

I sølvblå Vesterhav en dejlig have,

Med bøgehegn, hvor nattergale bo!

Og hver en del gav himmelen sin gave,

På hver en plet velsignelserne gro!

 

Fra Ejdrens strøm til Skagens hvide banker

Den jyske halvø krummer sig mod nord.

Et herligt land! dets folk sig velstand sanker;

På fremmed strand det henter guld ombord.

Den muntre stridshingst over engen vanker,

Og stimer myldre i den dybe fjord;

Til stavn og ror har skoven egeplanker,

Dets sønner kraft, og snildhed deres ord.

 

Mod øst for denne tvende have stride

Mod Sjølunds bred og Odins gamle ø;

Nær Lolland, Falster, står i klæder hvide,

Med løv om håret, bølgens ranke mø.

Det raske folk kan ingen mangel lide,

Thi agren her sig bølger som en sø;

Om favre blomstereng stå lunde blide;

Her er det smukt at leve, tungt at dø!

 

Og dybt mod Syd, hvor Elbens Bølge gynger

Vel tusind Snekker langs den grønne Kyst

I fede Marsk, imellem gyldne Dynger,

De røde Hjorde hvile sig med Lyst.

I østlig Sø, hvor vrede Stormfugl synger,

Bornholm står, kraftig, med sit Klippebryst;

Og dybt i Stenen er Karfunkelklynger,

Og det har Mænd, som le ad Kampens Dyst!

 

Så skille strøm og sunde mark og stæder;

Men et er Danmark, trofast er dets magt;

En bro af malm samdrægtigheden smeder

Fra bred til bred, og ærlighed står vagt.

Vort held er et, og fælles er vor hæder

Den vogter sværdet med sin varetægt!

Og én den danske bøn, hvert hjerte beder:

"Gud skærme kongen og hans hele slægt!"

 

 

There is a land, far north is its location

 

There is a land, far north is its location,

And deep-sea summits swim close where it lies;

No place is lovelier in all creation

And Denmark is the fair name that applies!

In silver North Sea, a garden so exquisite,

With beechwood hedge, where dwells the nightingale!

And every part the heavens pay a visit,

And everywhere grow blessings that regale!

 

From Eider’s waters up to Skagen’s beaches

Does Jutland’s arc stretch northwards to its tip.

A blissful land! Its people blessed with riches

From foreign shores its gold is brought by ship.

Across its fields careers the lively stallion

And teeming fish in fjords one always spies;

Its woods of oak can furnish every galleon,

Its sons are strong, their speech though sound and wise.

 

And eastwards two seas still do constant battle

’Gainst Sjølund’s coast and Odin’s ancient isle;

Near Lolland, Falster, dressed in white apparel,

Hair wreathed in leaves, we see the waves’ maid smile.

No shortages the well-fed folk here suffer,

For like a sea the rich fields meet the eye;

Round flowering leas soft groves provide a buffer;

Here it is good to live, and hard to die!

 

And furthest south, in river Elbe’s quiet billows,

A thousand craft along its waters rock,

In rich-loam marshland, midst the golden hillocks,

Delighting in the land red deer all flock.

And in the Baltic, with the storm-birds screaming,

Stands Bornholm, mighty, with its rocky chest;

Where deep within carbuncles lie there gleaming,

And it has fearless men that battle best!

 

Thus sounds and straits part fields and towns asunder;

Yet Denmark is one land, its power unmarred;

A bridge of steel unites, as if a wonder,

From shore to shore, with honesty on guard.

Our fortune’s one, our honour all-exceeding,

The sword’s firm vigilance does this enshrine!

Each Danish heart one prayer alone is heeding:

‘May God the king preserve and all his line!’