Ihr liewe leit:
Kennt es warricklich sei ass en Amtsmann en Esel iss? Do misse mer
mol weiderliese:
Schtols hot er (Der alt Mann) um sich geguckt,
Die Axle bissel schepp verzuckt,
Noh secht er, “Well, ich denk ich bin
Der eensicht do vun sellem Zinn.
“Wass Weibsleit aageht, geh mer weck,
Do fress ich liewer Supp vun Dreck:
Vum Wei, do heesst’s im Al Koran,
‘Sell Schtoft verderbt de beschde Mann.’
“Dem Singe un dem Doodle, well,
Dem reiss ich aus so zimmlich schnell,
So ‘n Grexe un so’n dumm Gegrischt –
Wie Hund un Katze unnerm Disch.”
Der Schquier hot sich rumgedreht
Zumm mann wu gaern sei Esel hett:
“Dei Esel, denk ich, der iss fatt,
Un’s batt nix ass mer lenger waardt.
“Do, nemm den Kall un zaahm en uff,
Un hock dei Bindel hinnedruff;
So’n Esel finnt mer kenner meh
Vun Ispahan bis an der See.”
Nau, wie gsaat, mer darref net glei an Amtsleit un Balledischeners
denke wann mer sell Watt Esel heert odder sehnt. Die zwee (odder drei) hen
kaam ebbes middenanner zu duh. Zum Beischpiel, do iss en glee Schtick aussem
T. H. Harter seim buch Boonastiel:
“Es waar emol en Esel,un dem iss’s verleed warre en Esel lenger zu
sei. Er hot gfrogt fer en anneri Gleeder aageduh sei ass er gooke mecht wie en
Gaul odder en Ox. Dann sin sie draa un hen Geilshaut iwwer ihn gschtrippt, hen
sei Ohre nunnergebunne un hen ihn naus uff der Weg gelosst fer sei eege Lewe
suche.
“Glei iss en Droof Oxe der Weg kumme, un wie sie des auslendisch
Gedier gsehne hen, hen sie die Schwens in die Heeh un sin gschprunge wie
narrisch fer aus em Weg kumme. Des hot der Esel gekitzelt ass er aafange hot
lache, un wie sie sei Schtimm gheert hen, hen sie graad gewisst was er iss,sin
zerrick kumme un ihn in die Ribbe gebohrt bi ser maderlich geblarrt hot.
“Er iss heem un gfrogt fer die Geilshaut widder vun sich genumme
hawwe. ‘Fer’ hot er gsaat, ‘es macht nix aus wie ich mich aaduh, un wie viel
ass cih gook wie en anner Gedier, so gschwinnt ass ich mei Maul uffmach, dann
weess yeder waer ich bin.’
“Des gemaahnt mich an die Demmegraade an St. Louis die letscht Woch.
Die Pardi hot en Platform adopt, odder en Gleed gewowe, ass so neegscht
gegookt hot wie der Republican Rock ass sie hen kenne, un dennoh …”
Oops!!! Well, verdammt sei, nau wisst ihre all die Waahret: Der Alt
Professer hot net immer recht! Dann un wann dutt er doch en Fehler mache!
Macht’s gut,
Der Alt Professer
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Dear people:
Could it really be that an official is an ass? We’ll just have to
read on:
Proudly he (the old man) looked around,
Shrugged his shoulders a little crookedly,
Then he said, “Well, I think I am
The only of that kind.
“What concerns women, forget it;
I’d rather eat soup made of dirt;
Of wine, it says in the Al Koran,
‘That stuff ruins the best of me.’
“Singing and playing music, well,
I escape from it rather quickly,
Such a moaning and such a yelling
Like dogs and cats under the table.”
The squire turned around
To the man who would like to have his mule back.
“Your mule, I think, it is gone,
It doesn’t help to wait any longer.
“Here, take this fellow, and bridle him,
And put you pack on his back;
Such an ass/mule you’ll never again find
From Ispahan to the sea.”
Now, as we were saying, you must not immediately think of officials
and politicians when you hear or see the word “mule”. The two (or three)
have hardly anything to do with each other. For example, here is a little
piece from T. H. Harter’s book Boonastiel:
“There was once a mule that got sick and tired of being a mule any
longer. He asked to have a different set of clothes put on him that would
make him look like a horse or an ox. So they went to it and put a horse
hide over him, tied down his ears and put him out on the road so that he
could seek his own life.
“Immediately a drove of oxen came along, and when they saw that
outlandish animal, they lifted up their tails and ran like crazy to get
out of the way. The mule got such a kick out of that, that he laughed, and
when they heard his voice they knew right away what he was, came back and
bored into his ribs till he bawled/bellowed murderously.
“He went home and asked to have the horse hide taken off him.
‘Because,’ he said, ‘it makes no difference how I dress, and how much I
look like another animal, as soon as I open my mouth, then everyone knows
who I am.’
“That reminds me of the Democrats in St. Louis last week. The party
adopted a platform, or wove a set of clothes, they looked nearly like as
the Republican coat as they could, and then …”
Oops!!! Well, dammit all anyway, now you all know the truth: The
Old Professor isn’t always right! Now and then he does make a mistake!
Take care,
The Old Professor
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