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 Freja's sal :|

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,
thi 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 is a lovely country
it stands with broad beeches
near the salty eastern beach
It winds itself in hill, valley,
it is called old Denmark
and it is Freja's hall

There sat in former times,
the armour-suited warriors,
rested from conflict
Then they journeyed forwards to their enemies' injury,
now their bones are resting
behind the mound's menhir

That country is still lovely,
because the sea waves so blue frolic,
and the foliage stands so green
And noble women, beautiful maidens,
and men and brisk swains
inhabit the Danes' islands

Hail king and native country!
Hail every a Dane-citizen,
who works, what he can
Our old Denmark shall endure,
as long the beech reflects
its top in the blue wave