PA German Dialect

Es Neinuhr Schtick

3-20-03

Ihr liewe Leit:

   Wie ihr liewe Leser wu immernoch lewendich sin wisst, iss heit der aerscht Daag vum Friehyaahr. Der Henry L. Fisher (1822-1909) hot mol en scheenes "Friehyaahrslied" gschriwwe. Do iss es:

Der Winder iss fatt un ich bin so froh-
Wann er kummt un aa wann er geht.
Die Wolke sin weiss un der Himmel iss bloh,
   Un lieblich iss's wu mer sich dreeht.
Die Hinkel, die gaxe,
   Die Zwiwwle, die waxe,
Un die Amschel, die baut sich en Nescht.

Der Winder iss fatt un es Friehyaahr iss do,
Un alles guckt frisch, grie un nei.
Un's Leebli un Greesli vergriene sich so
   In dem liebliche Sunneschei.
   Die Sunn schmelst der Reife,
   Die Veggel, die peife,
Un sell gfallt mer's allerbescht.

Wass iss doch en Laerme datt drowwe im Hof?
   Mer meent doch mer mist sich vergaffe.
Ich glaab doch waahrhafdich, sie scheere die Schoof,
   Un harrich, was greische die Grabbe!
   Die Hinkel, die scharre,
   Die Scheeflin, die blare,
Un der Daed hot der Schoofhammel gschnidde!

Der Himmel iss bloh, die Wolke sin weiss,
   Un die Sunn scheint so lieblich un schee.
Kee Froscht me him Bodde, uffem Bechli kee Eis,
   Un wu iss der letschtyeehrich Schnee?
   Die Ieme, die brume,
   Die Goldamschle kumme,
Un die Gluke, die briehe im Schlidde.

Die Buwe, die bloosse ihr Weidepeife,
   Die Meed suche Bittre Selaat,
Un die Mannsleit, die misse ball Sense schleife,
   Schunscht geb't kee schee, sauwer Gemaad.
   Em Tschecki sei Beerdli,
   Des hot nau en Schteerdli,
Wann's reggert, gebt's viel Graas un Hai.

Du liewi, du freehlichi Friehyaahrszeit,
   Wie liebhaft die gansi Nadur.
O wunnerbaar iss die groos Hallichkeit-
   Gleichfellich die geringscht Greadur!
   Der Aadler fliegt hoch,
   Un's Schpetzli fliegt noch -
Der Schepfer, der haldt die all gleich.

Macht's gut,
Der Alt Professer

Dear people:

   As you readers who are still alive know, today is the first day of spring. Henry L. Fischer (1822-1909) once wrote a nice "Spring Song." Here it is:

Winter is gone and I am so happy-
   When it comes and also when it goes.
The clouds are white and the sky is blue,
   And it's nice wherever one turns.
   The hens are cackling,
   The onions are growing,
And the robin is building it nest.

Winter is gone and spring is here.
And everything looks fresh, green and new.
And the foliage and grass are getting so green
   In the lovely sunshine.
   The sun melts the frost,
   The birds are singing,
And I like that best of all.

What a racket up there in the yard!
   One just has to stand there and stare.
I really do think they are shearing the sheep,
   And listen to the cry of the crows!
   The hens are scratching,
   The sheep are crying,
And Dad cut the wether (while shearing)!

The sky is blue, the clouds are white,
   And the sun shines so lovely and nice.
No frost in the ground, on the brook no ice,
   And where is last year's snow?
   The bees are buzzing,
   The orioles are coming,
And the brood-hens are hatching eggs in the sleigh.

The boys are blowing their willow pipes,
   The girls are looking for dandelion.
And the men will soon have to sharpen their scythes,
   Or there will be no nice clean swath.
   Jacky's beard
   Is getting a start,
And when it rains, there's much grass and hay.

You dear, happy springtime,
   How lively is all of nature.
Oh, wonderful is the great glory-
   The same with the least creature!
   The eagle flies high,
   And the sparrow follows-
The creator considers them all equal.

Take care,
The Old Professor

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updated 3-15-2007 paf