A greeting from Hans Christian Andersen

 

IN DENMARK I WAS BORN

 

In Denmark I was born, my home’s no other,

here lie my roots, my world spreads out from here.

You Danish tongue, your voice is of a mother,

and you’re my heart so wonderfully near.

You bracing Danish strand,

where ancient barrows slumber

midst hops and apple orchards without number,

you are my love! – Denmark, my native land!

 

Where else does summer strew as rich a cover

of meadow-flowers, down to the open strand?

Where is the full moon over fields of clover 

as bright as in the beech’s native land?

You bracing Danish strand,

where Dannebrog flies surely, –

God’s gift to us, – God give us might and glory! –

You are my love! – Denmark, my native land!

 

You once held sway o’er all the Nordic region,

ruled over England, – now you are deemed weak,

though small, your songs and chisel-blows are legion

and still throughout the world are heard to speak.

You bracing Danish strand,

the plough unearths your gold horn,

God grant you future life, your past now full-born!

You are my love! – Denmark, my native land!

 

You land where I was born, my home – no other,

where my roots lie: my world spreads out from here.

Your language is the soft voice of a mother

that to my heart is music sweet and dear.

You bracing Danish strand,

where wild swans do their nesting,

you verdant isles, the home where my heart’s resting,

you are my love! – Denmark, my native land!