Hans Christian Andersen: 'Jylland mellem tvende Have'

 

Jylland mellem tvende have

 

Jylland mellem tvende have

som en runestav er lagt,

runerne er kæmpegrave

inde midt i skovens pragt,

og på heden alvorsstor,

her, hvor ørknens luftsyn -

ørknens luftsyn bor.

 

Jylland, du er hovedlandet,

højland med skov-ensomhed!

Vildt i vest med klittag sandet

løfter sig i bjerges sted.

Østersø og Nordhavs vand

favnes over Skagens -

over Skagens sand.

 

Heden, ja, man tror det næppe,

men kom selv, bese den lidt:

lyngen er et pragtfuldt tæppe,

blomster myldre milevidt.

Skynd dig, kom! om føje år

heden som en kornmark -

som en kornmark står.

 

Mellem rige bøndergårde

snart dampdragen flyve vil,

hvor nu Loke sine hjorde

driver, skove vokse til.

Briten flyver over hav,

gæster her prins Hamlets -

her prins Hamlets grav.

 

Jylland mellem tvende have

som en runesten er lagt,

fortid mæle dine grave,

fremtid folder ud din magt,

havet af sit fulde bryst

synger højt om Jyllands -

højt om Jyllands kyst.

 

 

Jutland by two oceans bounded

 

Jutland by two oceans bounded,

laid out like a runic stave,

runes of ancient barrows rounded,

each a wondrous woodland grave,

and on heath they weave strong spells,

here where desert mirage,

desert mirage dwells.

 

Jutland, you’re the country’s homeland,

highlands with seclusion spread!

Wild in west with dune-topped dome and

sands that rise in mountains’ stead.

Baltic, North Sea here hold hands,

joining over Skagen’s

over Skagen’s sands.

 

Ah, the heath has no contender,

come and take a look around: 

carpeted by heather’s splendour,

flowers thick-piled for miles around.

Quickly, come and see first-hand,

ere here swathes of cornfields

swathes of cornfields stand.

 

Soon rich farmsteads will do battle

with steam dragons flying past,

here where Loki now drives cattle,

woods will spring up all too fast.

Britons will soon brave the wave

come to see Prince Hamlet’s

see Prince Hamlet’s grave.

 

Jutland by two oceans bounded,

laid out like a runic stave,

of the past your graves have sounded,

a strong future you shall save,

and the sea will proudly boast,

loudly sing of Jutland’s

sing of Jutland’s coast.