Ihr liewe
Leit:
'S aerscht misse mer des Gedicht faddichmache ass der Dichder "Die
Unglicks Bauerei" gheesse hot:
Die Grick, die schwemmt es Wieseland,
die Rege wesche aus;
Der Suume fangt die helft Zeit net,
un Feier kummt ans Haus.
Es Ungraut waxt es bescht vun all,
un Geld kummt schier kens ei,
Un's iss immer bloher Mundaag
uff der Unglicksbauerei.
Die Habbich un die Grabbe sin
schier Meeschder uff em Blatz,
Un schniege rum schier gaar so zaahm
ass unser geeli Kata;
Un noh, es Land iss maager nau,
un blugt sich hatt debei;
Fer Lehnsleit iss es ewwe hatt
uff der Unglicksbauerei.
Fascht alles was der Dichder in PD gschriwwe hot waar vor 1922
gschriwwe. In sellem Yaahr hot er sei Schreiwes rausgewwe wolle, awwer er
hot's net geduh weil es zuviel gekoscht hett. Er hot sogar en Waddebuch
gschriwwe un sell iss aa nie rausgewwe warre.
Am achtzehede Yuli, 1939 hot der Harry Hower - ya, sell waar em
Dichder sei Naame - sei letscht Unglick ghatt. An sellem Daag, graad in der
Gegend vun Womelsdorf, hot er en Unfall mit seinre Maschien ghatt ass ihn
dotgemacht hot.
Do sin noch zwee Vaerscht vum Hower seim Gedicht "Es Hegins Lied":
Die altfrenkisch Lewe soll immer so sei,
Un Reichdum un Hochmut soll gaar net do rei.
So gsundlich, nadierlich un kammen die Leit,
So reich mit me Hatz voll vun Nochbarlichkeit.
O Hegins, ich gleich dich,
Dei Felder un Beem;
Dei Yingling sin freehlich
Un bleiwe deheem.
Awwer sell iss yuscht en Gedicht! Mer wisse awwer ass net yeder Yingling
deheem gebliwwe iss. Meindt ihr Leit datt draus noch der Naame Yoder? Ee
Yoder, der William, hot iwweraus schee Deitsch schreiwe kenne. Do iss sei
Schtick ass er "Was mer gelannt hen in der Sunndaagschul":
"In der Sunndaagschul hen mer viel nitzliche Sache gelannt. Guder
Rot un Lehr iss uns beigschafft warre. Mer kenne dankbaar sei fer was mer
gelannt hen un ass mer net uffgewaxe sin wie die Heide. Es hot miche aa denke
mache an viel vun de gschpassiche Sache ass mer datt gheert hen."
Un neegscht Woch lese mer vun ebbes ass recht gschpassich iss.
Macht's gut,
Der Alt Professer
|
Dear people:
First of all we have to finish the poem that the poet called "The
Bad Luck Farm":
The creek, it floods the meadow land,
the rains wash out (the fields);
Seeds don't take half the time,
and fire hits the house.
Weeds grow the best of all,
and hardly any money comes in,
And it's always blue Monday
on the Bad Luck Farm.
The hawks and the blackbirds are
almost masters on the place,
And sneak around almost as tame
as our yellow cat;
And then too the land is thin now,
and it's very hard to plow;
For tenant farmers life is hard
on the Bad Luck Farm.
Almost everything that the poet wrote in Pennsylvania German was
written before 1922. In that year he wanted to publish his writings, but
he didn't do it because it would have cost too much. He even wrote a
dictionary and that too was never published.
On July 18, 1939 Harry Hower - yes, that was the poet's name - had
his last misfortune. On that day, just in the neighborhood of Womelsdorf,
he had an accident with his automobile that killed him.
Here are two more verses of Hower's poem "The Hegins Song":
Your old-fashioned life shall always be so,
And wealth and haughtiness shall never come in.
So healthy, natural, and common the people,
So rich with a heart full of neighborliness.
Oh Hegins, I like you,
Your fields and trees;
You youth are happy
And stay home (in the community).
But that is just a poem! We know, however, that not every young
person stayed at home in Hegins. Do you people out there still remember
the name Yoder? One Yoder, William, could write extremely beautiful
Pennsylvania German. Here is the start of his piece "What we Learned in
Sunday School":
"In Sunday School we learned a lot of useful things. Good advice
and instruction were provided us. We can be thankful for what we learned
and that we did not grow up like the heathens. It also made me think about
many of the funny things that we heard there."
And next week we will read about something that is right funny.
Take care,
The Old Professor |
