Our sun has now grown cold,
we are in winters hold
the days are waning.
Now, past the deepest night,
our hope burns bright
yes, hope burns bright,
for now the sun will right,
now light will soon return, the days again are gaining.
The lovely fir tree green
betokens summers screen
of woods imposing.
In Christmas candlelight
like star-hosts bright,
yes, star-hosts bright,
suns wonder is in sight
and all the yellow flower-suns that now are dozing.
The fir-trees charry scent
gives air to summers spent
and each newcomer.
Cool Danish years all swing,
dance in a ring,
yes, in a ring
round an eternal spring.
Let all souls also sing of Denmarks lovely summer!
