PA German Dialect

Es Neinuhr Schtick

                                                                        
 
August 26, 2004

Ihr liewe Leit:

   Ya, saagt ihr, der Brunner waar en hoochgelannder Mann. Er iss in die Kalletsch gange un waar Suberendent vun Schule. Nadierlich hot er net viel englische Wadde benutze misse.

   Awwer sell kann mer net vun der Mrs. Orville Groh saage. Sie iss nau lang dot, awwer sie hot mol in Preston, Ontario, Kannnidaa gewuhnt. Sie waar en Bauersfraa un ihr Feddernaame waar “Die Betsy vun der Bauerei.” Sie hot viel Gedichde im pennsylvaanische Dialekt gschriwwe, hot schier gaar ken Englich benutzt, waar awwer gaar net hochgelannt.

   Do iss ihr Andwatt zum Brunner seim Gedicht “Wann ich yuscht en Bauer waer.” Es heesst “Ya, wann du aa en Bauer waerscht.”

Ya, wann du aa en Bauer waerscht
Un hettscht en gut Schtick Land,
Sei net so schur vun sellem Geld
Im Sack un in der Hand.
  ‘S maag sei, der Bauer iss ebmols
   Sei eegner Baas un frei,
   Doch oftmols net, verloss dich druff,
   Uff menschde Bauerei.
Im Friehyaahr seeht er’s Hawwerfeld
Wu scheener Weeze waar;
Der Weeze waar so schee un grie,
Un yetz iss brau un darr.
   Viel zu viel Eis druff gelege hot,
   Der ganse Winder lang,
   Un yetz wann’s wdider Friehyaahr iss,
   Noh macht er wie er kann.
Der Hawwer waxt so schee un grie,
Der Bauer dutt sich freehe;
Yetz kummt der Roscht, so dick un rot,
Mer kennt doch schiergaar heile.
   Er blanst aa Grummbiere im Moi,
   Guck yuscht emol sell Schtick!
   So wunnerschee un gsund un grie,
   Des Yaahr hen mir doch Glick!
Er hackt es Ungraut groos un glee
Vun Marriyeds frieh bis schpeet,
Un schafft sich ebmols schiergaar dot,
Un’s iss ihm gans verleed.
   Wann er en Schtund sei Buckel dreht,
   Un zwanzich dausend Keffer
   Die scheene griene Grummbiere
   Yetz aafange zu fresse,
Wer iss der Baas? Nee, net der Bauer
Un wann era a viel Geld
Ausgebt fer Gift. ‘S batt doch net viel.
Guck yuscht emol sell Feld.

Mer misse neegscht Woch weidermache.

Macht’s gut,
Der Alt Professer
Dear people:

 
Dear people:

   Yes, you say Brunner was a highly educated man. He went to college and was a superintendent of schools. Naturally he didn’t have to use many English words.

   But you can’t say that about Mrs. Orvill Groh. She has been dead now for a long time, but she once lived in Preston, Ontario, Canada. She was the wife of a farmer and her pen names was “Betsy form the Farm.” She wrote a lot of poems in the Pennsylvania German dialect, used hardly any English, but wasn’t highly educated at all.

 
   Here is her answer to Brunner’s poem “If I just were a Farmer.” It is called “Yes, if you were also a Farmer.”

Yes, if you were also a farmer
And had a good piece of ground,
Don’t be so sure about that money
In your pocket and in your hand.
   It could be that the farmer is sometimes
  His own boss and free
  But often not, depend on it,
  On most farms.

In Spring he sows the oat field
Where beautiful wheat once grew;
The wheat was so nice and green
And now is brown and dry.
   Much too much ice lay upon it,
   The whole winter long,
   And now when it is spring again,
   He does the best he can.
The oats grow so nice and green,
The farmer is very happy;
Now comes the rust, so thick and red,
One could almost cry.
   He plants also potatoes in May,
   Just look once at that plot!
   So beautiful and healthy and green,
   This year we will be lucky!
He hacks the weeds large and small
From mornings till late,
And sometimes works himself almost to death,
And he is quite disgusted about it.
   When he turns his back for an hour,
   And twenty thousand bugs
   The beautiful green potatoes
   Now starts to eat,
Who is the boss? No, not the farmer,
And even if he spends
A lot of money for poison. It doesn’t help much.
Just look at that field.

We will have to continue next week.

Take care,
The Old Professor
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