PA German Dialect

Es Neinuhr Schtick
 

11-20-03

Ihr liewe Leit:

   Un gleiche es die Meed wann en roder Kolwe gfunne watt un sie warren noh gebosst? Der Arthur D. Graeff (1899-1969), glaawwich, hot en gudi Andwatt fer uns. Do iss sei "Der Rot Kolwe":

Die Maad (Meed?) saagt:
Wann ich des Welschkannbaschde gleich
   Un schaff im Welschkannfeld,
Ich hab mei Ursach, des saag ich eich,
   Ich hab mir's aageschtellt.

Letscht Friehyaahr, so im Mitt vum Moi,
   Am Welschkannblanses Zeit.
Blans ich ee Nacht in yeder Roi
    Paar rode Kanne-gscheit?

Nau glawwich dass mei Zeit mol kummt
   Fer'n rode Kolwe finne;
Un wann ich duh-dann watt getschumpt!
   Muss mich net lang besinne!

Der Gnecht iss so verdollt langsam-
   Er gebt mir nie kee Boss;
Im Busch, im Haus, im Feld, im Schwamm-
   Er saagt er will ken "Fuss."

Doch wann ich so en Kolwe finn,
   Un er iss neegscht debei,
Glaab du mir des-ich hab's im Sinn
   Fer'n luschdich Bosserei!

 
  Awwer hot der Fisher net ebbes vum Ebbelscheele Gsaat? Do misse mer mol widder zum Funk geh, desmol zu seim Gedicht "Lattwaerrig Koche":

Alle Schpotyaahr waar die Zeit als
   Fer der Lattwaerrig koche;
Yeders waar graad uff de Zehe
   Vorderhand fer Woche.

Noh uffkors die Schnitzenpaerdi
   Dauf mer net vergesse;
Des waar en Owet lang im Sinn
   In Freindlichkeit gemesse.


Yeders luschdich, Niemand gruschdich,
   Un fleissich in seim Geschefft;
'S waar alle Sadde Gschpass gmacht,
   Es macht nix aus waer's drefft.

En meedel muss gebosst sei gut
   Fer aller Abbel rot.
Was freehe sich die yunge Kall-
   Des waar so'n siess Gebot!

   Ich denk ich deet liewer Ebbel scheele; mer finnt doch viel meh rode Ebbel ass wie Kolwe, gell!

Macht's gut,
Der Alt Professer
 
Dear people:

   And do the girls like it when a red ear of corn is found and they are then kissed? Arthur S. Graeff (1899-1969), I believe, has a good answer for us. Here is his "The Red Ear of Corn":

The hired girl (girls?) says:
If I like husking corn
   And work in the cornfield,
I have my reasons, that I can tell you,
   I have arranged it so myself.

Last spring, so in the middle of May,
   At the time of planting corn,
I planted one night in every row
   A few red kernels-smart of me?

Now I believe that my time is coming
   To find a red ear;
And when I do - then I'll be jumping!
   I don't have to think it over very long!

The hired hand is so doggone slow-
   He never gives me a kiss;
In the woods, the house, the field, the meadow-
   He says he wants no "fuss."

But if I find such an ear,
   And he is close by,
Believe you me-I have in mind
   For some enjoyable (lusty?) kissing!

   But didn't Fisher say something about peeling apples? Then we'll have to go to Funk again, this time to his poem "Cooking Apple Butter":

Every autumn used to be the time
   For cooking apple butter;
Everyone was right on his toes
   For weeks previously.

Now of course the snitzing party
   Must not be forgotten;
That was an evening long held in mind
   Measured in friendliness.

Everyone joyful/happy, no one cranky/crusty,
   And diligent in his work;
We had all sorts of fun,
   It made no difference who was picked on.

A girl has to be kissed well
   For every red apple.
How happy the young fellows are-
   It was such a sweet precept!

   I think I would rather peel apples; you find a lot more red apples than ears, right!?

Take care,
The Old Professor
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