Arlgiht I've been driknign a litl' and decigded to get nto som patriotisch luv-show-letting!8!-!!
There is a lovely land
it stands with broad beeches
near the salty eastern strand
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 set out to slay the foe,
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
Our language is strong and soft,
Our faith is pure and purified
And courage is not dead.
And each a Danish is just free,
Each faithfully obeys his/her king,
But slavery is over.
A friendly South in the North
Is the green Dane-realm,
Your clad ax-clad Earth.
And the ship walks itsproud way.
Where the plow and the keel furrows
There hope does not fail.
Our Danish flag is beautiful
The fans along the Sea
With Flag Red Bay.
And always has his white Colour
Your Holy Cross in blood,
O Flag of Denmark in battle.
Pure is the Danes's Spirit
It hates Prejudice's fetters,
And fascination's ties.
For friendship open, cold for mockery
Beats the Jute's honest heart,
For girl, country and king.
I swap Denmark not,
For Russia's winter deserts,
For Southern May Flowers.
We do not know plague and serpents
Not the melancholy of the west
Not the rage of the east.
Our time does not stand in reek,
It has raised his voice
Of Science and Arts.
A Cultist I Am.
Not
Bragi's and not
Mímir's cry
Aroused in equal stretch
A better hope for the future.
Not large, our native soil,
However soars among cities
Your proud
Copenhagen.
To better City did the sea not come
Yes no river in the valley;
From
Trondhiem and to
Rome.
With holy remand
Preserve you, All-father!
Our old dynasty.
King Fredrik resembles
Fredegod;
Where is a better prince
Of better hero blood?
Hail king and fatherland!
Hail every a Dane-citizen,
who works, what he can
Our old Denmark shall endure,
as long as the beech reflects
its top in the blue wave
GOD SAVE THE QUEEN