PA German Dialect

Es Neinuhr Schtick

February 24, 2005

Ihr liewe Leit:

   Ab un zu gebt eich der alt Professer zwee unnerschiddliche Aasichde. Wie mer heit lese, hen der Ralph S. Funk (1889-1969) un der Parre Isaac S. Stahr (1845-1930) net immer “Aag zu Aag” gsehne, besunners wann’s zum Winder Wind kumme iss:

Blooss, du rauer Wind (schreibt der Funk)!
Ich hab ken Lieb fer dich.
Du hauscht uun dobscht vun Daag zu Daag;
Dich hawwich uffem Schtrich!
   Du bringscht der Schnee un Kissel bei,
   Un dreibscht’s in alle Ecke;
   Es Vieh schteht draus im Scheierhof,
   Mit Kopp vun dir eweck.
Bischt so unfreindlich, schier so kalt
Wie Mensche ihre Hatz;
Besunners zu uns aarme Drepp,
In Mitleid fallscht du katz.
   Blooss, du rauer Winderwind;
   Du losscht mol ee Daag noh.
   Du kannscht net dauere darrich’s Yaahr –
   Fer sell bin ich aa froh.
Glei dreibt der Friehyaahr dich mol aus
Sell iss die Sunn ihr Zweck;
Geh zrick zum Nordland wu du gheeerscht,
Un bleib vun uns eweck!

   Un der Stahr? Er waar en Parre, wie ihr nau wisst, un’s kennt sei ass er deswege en zweddi Aasicht hot:

Der Winder iss en Yaahreszeit
Wu Froscht umschleiert die Erde weit;
Die Beem, die hen ken Bledder meh,
Es Graas verdaerrt, iss nimmi schee.
   Ken Blumme hot’s meh in der Wiss,
   Ken Veggel singe meh in de Bisch;
   ‘S iss alles dod un alles schtill,
   Wu Lewe waar in aller Fill.
Der Norwind bloosst in eisischer Graft,
In Feld un Wiss watt nimmi gschafft;
Die Welt leit do im Winderschloof,
Es scheint ass wie en groossi Schtroof.
   Es braucht em doch net sei verleed,
   Der Winder ho doch aa sei Freeht;
   Die Yaahreszeide hen all ihr Blatz,
   Un yedi bring tem Mensch es Schatz.
Der Froscht, der Wind, es Eis, der Schnee,
Sie sin woll rau, awwer doch aa schee;
‘S iss ebbes drin das zzaiehend iss,
Erfaahring lehrt uns des gewiss.
   Dann loss uns Winder hawwe bei Zeit,
   Die Erd bedeckt mit weissem Gleid/Gleed;
   Mer freehe uns iwwer der Wind un Schnee,
s helft der Erd un macht sie schee.
Macht’s gut,
Der Alt Professer

Dear people:

   Now and then the old Professor gives you two different points of view. As we will read today, Ralph S. Funk (1889-1969) and Pastor Isaac S. Stahr (1845-1930) did not always see eye to eye, especially when it came to the winter wind:

Blow, you raw wind (writes Funk)!
I have no love for you.
You rage and bluster from day to day;
I dislike you very much!
   You bring the snow and sleet
   And drive them into all corners;
   The cattle stand out in the barnyard
    With their heads away from you.
You are so unfriendly, almost as cold
As human hearts;
Particularly to us poor souls
You fall short in pity.
   Blow, you raw winter wind;
   You will one day abate.
   You cant last throughout the year –
   For that, I am also happy.
Soon the spring will drive you off,
That is the sun’s purpose;
Go back to the northland where you belong,
And stay away from us!


And Stahr? He was a pastor, as you now know, and it could be that he for that reason has a second point of view:

Winter is a time of year (season)
When frost covers the wide earth;
The trees, they no longer have leaves,
The grass dries out, is no longer nice.
   No flowers are in the meadow,
   No birds sing in the bushes;
   Everything is dead and still/quiet,
   Where life had been in full.
The north wind blows with an icy power,
In the field and meadow no one works;
He world lies here in winter-sleep,
It appears as if a great punishment.
   But you needn’t be discouraged
   Winter also has its joy;
   The seasons all have their place,
   And each one brings people its treasure/riches.
The frost, the wind, the ice, the snow,
They are certainly raw, but also so beautiful;
There’s something about it that is attractive,
Experience teaches us that for sure.
   So let us have winter in its time,
   The earth covered with a white dress/clothes;
   We are happy about the wind and the snow,
   It helps the Earth and makes it nice.
Take care,
The Old Professor

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