Der Russell W. Gilbert (1905-1985) hot mol 
gschriwwe: 

"Wann Hossesackwedder iwwer die Barrige kummt
     Un Schneefleckche faahre gschwinnt
Weil der Wind laut brummt,
     Do brauch mer net viel bedenke:
'S iss Winderzeit.
     Der Munet, verschteckelt, noch
Im Kallenner leit.
     Wann awwer die Flinde gnalle mit Winsche nachts,
Un middaags kummt Sauergraut---
     Un die lieb Mammi macht's---
Mer brauch ken Kallenner,
     'S Neiyaahr schlubbt rei; grooss Glick
Un Graut am aerscht Yenner
     Mache en gut Aafangsschtick."

Sauergraut!? Ya, nadierlich! Un wann ihr liewe
Leser gude Pennsylvaanisch Deitsche sin, dann
Denkt ihr graad wie die Louise A. Weitzel
(1862-1934), wie sie in ihrem Gedicht "Sauer-
graut" gschriwwe hot: 

"Ihr mecht yuscht schwetze was ihr wett
      Vun wege Esserei,
Wie Turkeys, Ende, Hinkel, Gens,
      Vun pumpkin un mince Pei.
'S gebt kee Gmies wie Sauergraut,
     'S dutt net, ich bleib debei!"

"Der Esau gebt sei Aerbrecht weck
     Fer Linse! Denk mol drei!
En narrischer Ding mit so me Taste,
     Des saag ich ohne Schei!
Fer Sauergraut kennt mer sell woll duh,
     Mer kennt, ich bleib debei!"

"Ya, all des Obscht was waxe kann
So lebbisch un so fei,
Bananas grie un Oranges,
Pineapple owwedrei!
'S hot kee Geschmack wie Sauergraut,
O nee, ich bleib debei!"

"Yuscht geb mer plenty Sauergraut,
     Mit Schpeck vun fette Sei,
En gudi Schissel Grummbiere,
     Verdrickt, muss aa noch bei.
Sunnscht will ich nix uff daere Welt,
     Sunnscht nix, ich  bleib debei!

"Un wann ich nix meh esse kann
     Un alles iss verbei,
Bis zu meim letschde Aageblick
     Bleib ich meim Friend gedrei:
'S gebt kee Gemies wie Sauergraut,
     'S dutt net, ich bleib debei!"

Un wann der Sauergraut heemgemachter iss,
dann schreibt gschwinnt; ich bin dann am aerschde
bei eich!

Macht's gut,

Der Alt Professer

Russell W. Gilbert (1905-1985) once wrote:

"When very cold weather comes over the mountain
     And little snowflakes drive quickly
Because the wind is humming loudly,
     One doesn't have to consider much:
It's winter time.
     The month, still hidden,
Lies within the calender.
     But when the guns crack with wishing at night,
And at noon comes sourkraut---
     And dear Mommy makes it---
One doesn't need a calendar,
     The New Year slips in; great luck
And kraut on the first of January
     Make for a good beginning."

Sourkraut? Yes, naturally! And if you dear
readers are good Pennsylvania Dutch (Germans),
then you think exactly like Louise A. Weitzel
(1862-1934), as she wrote in her poem
"Sourkraut":

"You may just talk as you like
     About food
Like turkeys, ducks, chickens, geese,
     And pumpkin and mince pies.
There is no vegetable like sourkraut,
     There isn't, I'll stick to that!

"Esau gives away his inheritance
     For lentils! Just think about that!
A crazy thing with such a taste,
     I'll say that without shyness!
You could well do that for sourkraut,
     One could, I'll stick to that!

"Yes, all the fruit that can grow
     So insipid and so fine,
Bananas green and oranges,
     Pineapples on top of that!
They have no taste like sourkraut,
     Oh, no, I'll stick to that!

"Just give me plenty of sourkraut
     With bacon and fat pigs,
A good pot of potatoes,
     Mashed, must also be included.
Otherwise I want nothing else in this world,
     Otherwise nothing, I'll stick to that!

"And when I can eat nothing more
     And it's all over with,
Up to my last moment
     I'll stay true to my friend;
There is no vegetable like sourkraut,
     There isn't, and I'll stick to that!"

And if the sourkraut is homemade, then write
me quickly; I'll be at your house on the first!

Take care,

The Old Professor