PA German Dialect

Es Neinuhr Schtick

9-11-03

Ihr liewe Leit:

   Letscht Woch hen mer gsehne ass en Dichder(in) zwee verschiddliche Aasichde hawwe kann-er (sie) schreibt eefach zwee Gedichde. Nau sehne mer ass er gaar net zwee schreiwe muss-ee Gedicht kann's aa duh. Mer lese heit Vaerscht aussem Funk seim Gedicht "Winsche":

"Ich wott ich waer en grosser Mann,"
   So saagt der gleener Bu,
"Dann kennt ich duh so wie ich wott,
   Graad wie die Eldre duh."

"Bin marrigeds aussem Bett geyaagt
   Am nein Uhr odder zehe;
Sie heesse mich en Faulenser,
   Was kann ich duh dewege."

"Do draag des naus' un 'bring sell rei,'
   'Schring noch der Beckerei''
Hinkel fiedre, Oier suche,
   Un Hols muss aa noch bei."

"So geht's vun eem zum annere Ding,
   'S macht mich ungeduldich;
Du ye! Waer ich dann yuscht en Mann,
   Waer ich nimmand schuldich!"

"Ich wott ich waer en gleener Bu,"
   So saagt en alder Mann;
"Dann kennt ich duh so wie ich wott,
   Graad wie mei Yunger kann."

"Do muss ich frieh marrigeds uffschteh
   Un schaff bis owets schpot,
Vun Daag zu Daag es gans Yaahr rum
   Fer unser deeglich Brot."

"Un alles muss ich selwer duh,
   Die Kinner sin nix viel;
Doch gude Gleeder fordere sie
   Un Sitz in weeche Schtiehl."

""S iss mir en schwaeri Elend ball,
   'S macht mich ungeduldich;
Ach, waer ich yuscht en gleener Bu,
   Waer ich nimmand schuldich."

Was soll mer dann dewege duh-
Browiere wie mer kann;
Der Bu iss doch en gleener Bu-
Der Mann an alder Mann.

Macht's gut,
Der Alt Professer

Dear people:

   Last week we saw that a poet(ess) can have two different points of view-he (she) simply writes two poems. Now we will see that he doesn't have to write two of them-one poem can do it too. Today we will read verses from Funk's poem "Wishing":

"I wish I were a big man,"
   So says the little boy,
"Then I could do what I want,
   Just as parents do."

"I'm chased out of bed in the morning
   At nine o'clock or ten;
They call me lazybones.
   What can I do about it."

"Here, carry this out' and 'bring that in,'
   'Run to the bakery';
Feed the chickens, look for eggs,
   And wood has to be brought in."

"So it goes from one thing to another,
   It makes me impatient;
Woe's me! if I were just a man,
   I'd be beholden to no one!"

"I wish I were a little boy,"
   So says an old man;
"Then I could just do what I like,
   Just as my son can,"

"I have to get up early in the morning
   And work till late at night,
From day to day the whole year round
   For our daily bread."

"And everything I have to do myself,
   The children don't do much;
But they demand good clothes
   And seats in soft chairs."

"It's almost a heavy nuisance,
   It makes me impatient;
Oh, if only I were a little boy,
   I'd be beholden to no one."

What should one do about it- Try as one can;
The boy is, after all, a little boy-
The man, an old man.

Take care,
The Old Professor

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updated 3-15-2007 paf