Nunarput, utoqqarsuanngoravit

"Nunarput, utoqqarsuanngoravit" (Danish: Vort ældgamle land under isblinkens bavn, English: You, Our Ancient Land) is the regional anthem of Greenland, an autonomous state of the Kingdom of Denmark. Written by Henning Jakob Henrik Lund in 1912, it was officially adopted in 1916. Music for it was later composed by Jonathan Petersen in 1937.

Since 1979, "Nuna asiilasooq" ("The Land of Great Length"), an ethnic anthem used by the self-governing Kalaallit people, has also been officially recognised by the government.

Greenlandic lyrics

Nunarput, utoqqarsuanngoravit
Niaqqut ulissimavoq qiinik.
Qitornatit kissumiaannarpatit
Tunillugit sineriavit piinik.

Akullequtaasutut merlertutut
Ilinni perortugut tamaani
Kalaallinik imminik taajumavugut
Niaqquit ataqqinartup saani.

Atortillugillu tamaasa pisit
ingerlaniarusuleqaagut,
nutarterlugillu noqitsigisatit
siumut, siumut piumaqaagut.

Inersimalersut ingerlanerat
tungaalittiterusuleqaarput,
oqaatsit "aviisit" qanoq kingunerat
atussasoq erinigileqaarput.

Taqilluni naami atunngiveqaaq,
kalaallit siumut makigitsi.
Inuttut inuuneq pigiuminaqaaq,
saperasi isumaqaleritsi.

IPA transcription

[nu.nɑʁ.put u.tɔq.qɑʁ.su.an.ŋo.ʁa.vit]
[ni.ɑq.qut u.lis.si.ma.vɔq qiː.nik]
[qi.tɔʁ.na.tˢit kis.su.mi.aːn.nɑʁ.pa.tˢit]
[tu.niɬ.ɬu.ɣit si.nə.ʁi.a.vit piː.nik]

[a.kuɬ.ɬə.qu.taː.su.tut məʁ.ləʁ.tu.tut]
[i.lin.ni pə.ʁɔʁ.tu.gut ta.maː.ni]
[ka.laːɬ.ɬi.nik im.mi.nik taː.ju.ma.vu.ɣut]
[ni.ɑq.qu.it a.tɑq.qi.nɑʁ.tup saː.ni]

[a.tɔʁ.tˢiɬ.ɬu.ɣiɬ.ɬu ta.maː.sa pi.sit]
[i.ŋəʁ.la.ni.ɑ.ʁu.su.lə.qaː.ɣut]
[nu.tɑʁ.təʁ.lu.ɣiɬ.ɬu nɔ.qit.si.ɣi.sa.tˢit]
[si.u.mut si.u.mut pi.u.mɑ.qaː.ɣut]

[i.nəʁ.si.ma.ləʁ.sut i.ŋəʁ.la.nə.ʁat]
[tu.ŋaː.lit.tˢi.tə.ʁu.su.lə.qɑːʁ.put]
[ɔ.qaːt.sit a.viː.sit qa.nɔq ki.ŋu.nə.ʁat]
[a.tus.sa.sɔq ə.ʁi.ni.ɣi.lə.qɑːʁ.put]

[tɑ.qiɬ.ɬu.ni naː.mi a.tun.ŋi.və.qɑːq]
[ka.laːɬ.ɬit si.u.mut ma.ki.ɣit.si]
[i.nut.tut i.nuː.nəq pi.ɣi.u.mi.nɑ.qɑː.q]
[sa.pə.ʁa.si i.su.mɑ.qa.lə.ʁit.si]

Danish translation

Vort ældgamle land under isblinkens bavn
med lysende snehår om dit hoved!
Du trofaste moder, som bar os i din favn
mens dine kysters rigdom du os loved.

Som halvvoksne børn er vi groet af din jord
og trygt vokset op blandt dine fjelde,
vi kalder os kalaallit i landet, hvor vi bor
ærbødigt for dit hvide åsyns ælde.

Og alt mens vi bruger dit bugnende flor
vi længes mod verdens nye former,
vi fjerner hver hindring, som hæmmer dig, vor mor
og frejdigt frem mod fjerne mål vi stormer.

De fremskredne folk et eksempel os gav
og det vil vi også stræbe efter,
mens bøgernes verden er vores vandringsstav,
som bær os frem og giver nye kræfter.

Umuligt nu længer at blive i ro,
kalaallit, mod store mål vi stævner.
Som fribårne folk vi i landet vil bo;
begynd at tro på jeres egne evner.

Literal English translation

Our ancient land under ice glimmer's bavn
with glowing snow-hair around your head!
You faithful mother, who carried us in your embrace
while your shores' riches you promised us.

As half-grown children, we are sprouted from your soil
and safely grown up among your mountains,
we call ourselves kalaallit in the land where we live
reverently for the oldness of your white face.

And all while we use your abundant bloom
we long for new forms of the world,
we remove every obstacle that hinders you, our mother
and cheerfully towards distant goals we storm.

The advanced people gave us an example
and we will also strive for that,
while the world of books is our walking stick,
which carries us forward and gives new strength.

It's impossible now to stay in rest longer,
kalaallit, towards great goals we meet.
As freeborn people we in the country will live;
start believing in your own abilities.

Poetic English translation

Our country, which has become so old
your head is all covered with white hair.
Always held us, your children, in your bosom
and gave us the riches of your coasts.

As middle children in the family
we blossomed here
Kalaallit, we want to call ourselves
before your proud and honourable head.

With a burning desire to develop what you have
to give, renewing,
removing your obstacles
our desire to move is forward, forward.

The way of matured societies
is our zealous goal to attain;
the effect of speech and letters
we long to behold

Humbleness is not the course,
Kalaallit wake up and be proud!
A dignified life is our goal;
courageously take a stand