PA German Dialect

Es Neinuhr Schtick
 

7-10-03

Ihr liewe Leit:

   In der ganse Nadur
   Finnscht nix schenner schur (Geh such wu du will in der ganse Welt) Ass wie graad sell goldenes Weezefeld!

   O, wie sehnt mer's gaern
   In der Hoiet un Aern.
   Sehnscht wie der Wind bloosst
   Un der Halme schtoost,
Er geht uff un ab so leivcht un so schee.
Es guckt yuschtement wie die Welle am See.
   Waer sehnt sie net gaern
   In der Hoiet un Aern?
   So hot der Dokder George Mays (1836-1909) gschriwwe in seim Gedicht "Hoiet un Aern."

   Ya, 's iss der Yuli, die Hoiet iss verbei un die Bauere sin in der Aern. Awwer net yuscht die Bauere; nee, wie der H.L. Fischer (1822-1909) uns in seim gedicht "Die Alde Zeide" saagt,

Im Aerntfeld waar's net so wie nau,
   Mit Patente Maschiene;
Es waar en groossi kumpanie,
Un yuscht en rechder Tschubelie,
   En Daagloh so verdiene;
Mer hot so viel dezu gelacht,
Es hot die Arwet leichder gemacht.
Sell waar en scheeni Kumpanie,
   Lebhafde, yunge Leit:
Die Meed hen gerecht un gelacht un gsunge.
Die Buwe hen ne noochgebunne-
   Ich wott waer's noch so heit!
   Die Meed hen gerecht? Die Buwe hen's Weeze in Garrewe gebunne? Dann waer hot's Frucht abgeschnidde? Ya, Menner hen schiergaar immer die Satt hatt Arrewet geduh, weil mer hot zimmlich schtarrig sei misse fer en Fruchtreff zu schwinge. In seim Gedicht Schreibt der Dokder Mays,

   Sehnscht wie seller Mann
   Sei Reff handle Kann?
Er schmeisst seller Weeze gleich in die Roi,
Net verhuddelt wie sie duhne des hoi.

   Ya, en schtarriger Mann hot's Reff gut handle kenne, awwer en Bu? In seim Gedicht 'Der Yuni un der Yuli" schreibt der Frank Brunner (1835-1908),

   Im Yuni hen mer Hoi gemacht;
   Mei Hend hen Mohler vun der Sens.

Awwer im Yuni waar er am Hoi Meehe mit der deitsche Sens. Nau iss es Yuli un der Brunner schreibt,
   Es Fruchtreff waar fer mich zu grooss,
   Im Schtroh waar's immer fascht;
   Ich hab gzoppt fer widder los,
   Es waar mir als en Lascht.

Neegscht Woch mache mer weider.

Macht's gut,
Der Alt Professer
 
Dear people:

   In all of nature
You'll find nothing nicer surely (Go look where you want in the whole world) Than that golden wheat field!

   Oh, how one likes to see it.
   During haying and harvest.
   Do you see how the wind blows
   And the stalk is tossed
Back and Forth so easily and so nicely.
It looks just like the waves of the sea.
   Who doesn't like to see that.
   During haying and harvest?

   Thus wrote Doctor George Mays (1836-1909) in his poem "Haying and Harvest."

   Yes, it is July, haying is over and the farmers are at the harvest. But not just the farmers; no, as H. L. Fisher (1822-1909) tells us in his poem "The Olden Times,"

The harvest field it wasn't as it is today,
   With manufactured machines;
There was a large group,
And just a veritable jubilee,
   To get a day's pay in that way:
We laughed so much,
It made the work easier.
That was a nice group,
   Lively, young folk:
The girls raked and laughed and sang,
The boys tied the sheaves after them-
   I wish it were still so today!

   The girls raked? The boys tied the wheat into sheaves? Then who cut off the grain? Yes, men almost always did that kind of hard work because one had to be quite strong to swing a grain cradle. In his poem Doctor Mays writes,

   Do you see how that man
   Can handle his cradle?
He throws that wheat right into a row,
Not all tangled as they do the hay.

   Yes, a strong man could handle the cradle well, but a boy? In his poem "June and July" Frank Brunner (1835-1908) writes,

   In June we made/cut hay;
   My hands have scars from the scythe.

But in June he was mowing hay with a German scythe. Now it is July and Brunner writes,
   The grain cradle was too big for me,
   It always got caught up in the straw;
   I tugged at it to get it loose,
   It was a heavy burden for me.

We will continue next week.

Take care,
The Old Professor
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