PA German Dialect

Es Neinuhr Schtick

7-31-03

Ihr liewe Leit:

'S aerscht lese mer zwee Vaerscht aussem Ralf Funk (1889-1969) seim Gedicht "Der Daadi Ruft":

Draus im Schtall in Neschder Baxe
Duhn die Hinkel lengscht schunn gaxe;
"Kumm an, ihr Buwe, schafft eich raus,
Heit gehn mer iwwers Kannfeld naus.

   Wie mir nau wisse, hen die Bauere, ihre Seh un ihre Gnecht vun frieh marrigeds bis schpeet owets in der Aernt hatt gschafft. Der Vadder - un mannichmol aa die Mudder - hot der Baas sei misse, wie uns der Henry L. Fischer (1822-1909) in seim lang Gedicht "Die Alde Zeide" nau saagt:

Der Daadi un die Mammi, die
   Hen in der Kammer gschloofe;
Un marrigeds frieh-sell waar der Weg-
Sin sie so unne an der Schteeg
   Un hen uns all gerufe,
"Aed, Eve, Betzi un Mary-Ann,
Tschan, Tscheck, Abe, Saem, Susan un Daen."

Yuscht eemol gerufe-sell waar genuck-
   So hen sie's mit uns ghatt;
Ihr Watt waar Laa-sell waar die Ruul,
Bei uns waar's Haus en schtrengi Schul-
   Ihr Wadde hen gebatt;
Un mir hen gfolgt bis uff en Haar,
Meenschtmol-un doch ebmols, net gaar.

   Awwer heit hen mer mol widder mit zwee Aasichde zu duh. Mer lese yetz vum Paul B. Horning (1894-1986) Seim Gedicht "Munndaag uff der Bauerei."

Der Daed schteht in der Kich an der Schpeicherdier;
"Will uff, uff! Heerscht, Will? Uff, uff!
Die Geil fierdre un schtriggle. Nau, harrich mir!"
"Tscho, uff, uff! Schnell uff, Tscho, uff!
Die Hinkels un's Vieh un die Sei fiedre! Wasser bumbe
Fer die Memm! Schnell dich uff, Tscho, uff!
Die Kelwer sin am Blarre, die Sei am Rumtschumbe!
Ich un die Memm misse ans Melke geh.
Maeri, uff! Ans Marrige-esse Mache.
Uff, uff alle drei! Der Haahne iss am Greehe!"

Der Daed schteht un harricht, awwer ken Yacht
Kummt vum Schpeicher; alles ruhich.

"Was macht en Schtund aus, ee Weg odder der anneer.
Kummt die Zeit ass mer sie alle drei
Widder gaern in ihre Bedder sehne deet, all minnanner
In siesser Schloof, unschuldich un gedrei.
Kumm, Memm, mach du es Marrige-esse.
Loss sie noch en Weili leie, alle drei."

Macht's gut,
Der Alt Professer

Dear people:

   First of all we will read two stanzas from Ralph Funk's (1889-1969) poem "Daddy Calls":

Out in the stable in nesting boxes
The hens have long been cackling;
"Come on, boys, get out here,
Today we're going out over the rye-field."

   As we now know, the farmers, their sons and their hired hands worked from early in the morning till late at night in harvest time. The father - and sometimes also the mother - had to be the boss, as Henry L. Fisher (1822-1909) tells us in his long poem 'The Olden Times";

Daddy and Mommy, they
   Slept in the first-floor bedroom;
And early in the morning-that was the custom-
They went to the bottom of the stairs
   And called all of us,
"Ad, Eve Betsy and Maryanne,
John, Jake, Abe, Sam, Susan and Dan."

Called just once-that was enough-
   That's the way things were;
Their word was law-that was the rule,
With us the house was a stern school-
   Their words mattered/counted;
And we obeyed exactly (to a hair),
Most of the time-and yet sometimes, not quite.

   But today we once again have something to do with two points of view. We now read from Paul B. Horning's (1894-1986) poem "Monday on the Farm":

Dad stands in the kitchen at the second-floor door;
"Will, up, up! Do you hear, Will? Up, up!
Feed and currycomb the horses. Now, listen to me!"

"Joe, up, up! Quickly up, Joe, up!
The chickens and cattle and pigs need feeding! Pump
water for Mom! Hurry yourself up Joe, up!
The calves are lowing, the pigs are jumping around!
I and Mom have to get milking.
Mary, up! Get to making breakfast.
Up, up all three! The cock is crowing!"

Dad stands there and listens, but no sound
Comes from the second floor; everything is quiet.

"What does an hour matter, one way or the other.
The time will come when we would like to see
All three again in their beds, all together
In sweet sleep, innocent and true.
Come, Mom you make the breakfast.
Let them lie a while longer, all three."

Take care,
The Old Professor

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