There lies a pleasant land
with beech trees wide outspreading
//: near Baltic’s salty strand, ://
it winds and curves in hill and dell,
its name of old is Denmark,
//: and here does Freya dwell. ://
There sat in days of yore
the warriors clad in armour,
//: revived from times of war; ://
they rose again to smite the foe,
now here their bones lie resting
//:’neath wreaths of standing stones ://
Still beauteous is this land;
rich-veined with deep-blue waters
//: and in full leaf it stands, ://
and noble women, maidens fair
and men and youths so eager
//: its isles as homeland share. ://
Hail king and fatherland!
Hail every heart that’s Danish
//: and serves as best it can! ://
Our ancient Denmark shall stand true,
as long as beech trees mirror
//: their crowns in waves of blue. ://
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