Ihr liewe Leit:
'S iss nimmi oft ass mer ebber heert 's Nei-
yaahr aawinsche un aachiesse. Wann mer sell heit
browiere deet, waer die Belies glei hinne eem
nooch.
Awwer der Lloyd A. Moll (1879-1944) hot
Ebbes dodevun gewisst:
"Es hot doch sonderbaar gegnallt
So mitte in der Nacht.
In alle Ecke hot's geschallt,
Des Leerme un die Yacht.
"Ich bin verschrocke, so im Schloof,
Un guck zum Fenschder naus,
Ich sehn drunne in meim Hof
Die Schitz graad vor meim Haus.
"Die Schitz, die hen so feierlich gschosse,
Mit Luscht un Freehlichkeit,
Ken Blut hen sie die Nacht vergosse,
Do gebt's ken dode Leit.
"En schwerer Schuss, en Winsch dezu,
So lang wie siwwe Lieder;
Die Schitz, die losse mir ken Ruh,
Bis ich sie drenk un fieder."
Awwer wie hot so en Winsch gelaudt? Im nein-
zehede Yaahrhunnert hett mer so ebbes heere
kenne:
"Ich wunsch eich en glickliches Neies Yaahr!
Ich hoff der Haerr watt eich geben
Gudi Gesundheit un langes Leben.
"Zum aerschten winsch ich eich was mir auch gefellt,
Ein groosses Backebuch, des voll mit Geld.
"Zum zwetten winsch ich eich en groosses Haus,
Im Keller kein eenischi Maus.
"Zum dritten winsch ich eich das schennschte in der Welt,
Eine goldni Watch un millyone vun Geld.
"Zum vierten winsch ich eich was das Haerz begehrt,
Eine groosse Scheier un viel andre Sache mehr.
"Zum fimften winsch ich eich
En grosser Schtall voll Feddervieh,
Viel Rinder un viel gude Kieh.
Die Kieh sin awwer am mennschde waert,
Wie die Erfaahring uns deeglich lehrt;
Sie geben eich Millich, Budder un Kees,
Des schmeckt oftmols besser ass des beschde Gmies.
Fiedert awwer fleissich eire Kieh,
Schunnscht fehlt's am Budder un der Millich.
"Ihr Brieder, eier Haahne auf,
Un losst ein heller Schuss doraus!
Noh meege sie heile odder lache,
Dann losse mir unser Bichse grache!"
Macht's gut,
Der Alt Professer
|
Dear people:
It isn't often that one still hears someone wish-
ing and shooting in the new year. If one tried it
today, the police would soon be after you.
But Lloyd A. Moll (1879-1944) knew some-
thing about that:
"It cracked wonderfully
In the middle of the night.
It resounded in all corners,
The noise and the racket.
"I got scared, in my sleep,
And so I looked out the window.
I saw below in my yard
The shooters right in front of my house.
"The shooters, they shot so solemnly,
With pleasure and happiness.
They shed no blood that night,
There are no dead people.
"A heavy shot, a wish in addition,
As long as seven songs;
The shooters, they allow us no rest,
Until I give them drink and food."
But what did such a wish sound like? In the
nineteenth century one could hear something like
this:
"I wish you a happy New Year!
I hope the Lord will give to you
Good health and long life.
"First of all, I wish you what I also like,
A big pocketbook, and that full of money.
"Secondly, I wish you a big house,
In the cellar not one mouse.
"Thirdly, I wish you the nicest things in the world,
A gold watch and millions in money.
"Fourthly, I wish you what your heart desires,
A big barn and many more things.
"Fifthly, I wish you
A large stall full of poultry,
Many cattle and many good cows.
The cows, however, are worth the most,
As experience teaches us daily;
They give you milk, butter and cheese,
Which often tastes better than the best vegetables.
But feed your cows diligently,
Or else there won't be any butter and milk.
"Brothers, open the cocks (of your guns),
And let out a bright shot!
Then they may cry or laugh,
Then we'll let crack our rifles!"
Take care,
The Old Professor |
