PA German Dialect

Es Neinuhr Schtick

November 11, 2004

Ihr liewe Leit,

   Wann mer net graad in der Mitt vunre Schtadt odder vumme Schteddel wuhnt, kann mer heidichdaags dann un wann Schiesse heere. Awwer des meent net ass yeder Schuss en Haas, en Eecherli odder en Hasch gedroffe hot. Der Holsbock (Harvey M. Miller, 1871-1939) wees genau was ich meen:

En Halb Meil, en Halb Meil,
   En Halb Meil weider,
Graad in der Baettel nei
   Gehn die Raffreider.
“Vorwaert!” – en dausend Mann,
Yeders en Son-mit-me-gun,
Ab noch de Butscherei,
Yeders mit Pulwer un Blei
Iss graad zu de Hecke nei,
   Un die Hosse verrisse.
Haase uff Recht un Links,
Haase aa vanne, bei tschinks,
Haase hinne sin gschprunge
   Wie Blitzen un Dunner!
Gschtarremt hot’s mit Kugle datt,
Gschmookt hot’s wie Newwel datt,
Doch sin die Haase fatt,
Iwwer der Graewel gschatt,
   Weck vun de Hunder!
Bixe vum beschde Schtaahl
Waare datt iwweraal,
Un weider un weider
Sin die Raffreider
   Darch Dann un Dreck;
Mit Gledde un Buweleis,
Iwwer die Wissemeis,
Hunder un Hund
Hen Blodre un Grund
In de Seck un de Reck,
Un ken Haar un ken Haas
Schpringt datt eweck.
Hauns uff der rechde Hand,
Hauns uff der linkse Hand,
Hauns sin uff allehand
   Am Blarre un Yole;
Ulwer un Feier schpritz
Bis alleHunder schwitzt
Vm Kopp bis zum Hossesitz,
Un flucht bis er matt iss;
Yaa, net en Schwans hot er, gell?
O, was en Baettel waar sell!
   Es hot eem verwunnert.
Mit Buweleis, Gledde un Dreck
Gans iwwer zugedeckt!
   Un was hot’s doch gedunnert!

Un sell Gedicht hot der Holsbock “Ken Haar Verletzt” gheesse.

Macht’s gut,
Der Alt Professer

Dear people:

   If you don’t live right in the middle of a city of town, you can these days now and then hear shooting. But that doesn’t meant that every shot has hit a rabbit, squirrel or deer. Solly Hulsbuck (actually Harvey W. Miller, 1871-1939) knows exactly what I mean:

A half mile, a half mile,
   A half mile farther,
Right into the battle
   Go the roughriders.
“Forwards!” – a thousand men,
Each one a son-with-a-gun,
Off to the butchery,
Each with powder and lead
Went right into the bushes,
   And tore his pants.

Rabbits to the right and left,
Rabbits also in front, by jinks,
Rabbits to the rear ran
   Like lightning and thunder!
It stormed with bullets there,
It smoked like fog there,
But the rabbits got away,
Hastened over the gravel,
   Away from the hunters!
Rifles of the best steel
Were there everywhere,
And farther and farther
Went the roughriders
   Through thorns and dirt;
With burdock and tickseed,
Over the meadow mice,
Hunter and hound/dog
Have blisters and dirt/ground
   In their pockets and coats,
And no hair and rabbit
   Runs away from there.
Dogs on the right hand,
Dogs on the left hand,
Dogs everywhere are
   Barking and baying;
Powder and fire sprays
Till every hunter sweats
From head to pants seat,
And swears till he is weak/weary;
Yeah, he doesn’t even have a tail, right?
Oh, what a battle that was!
   It just amazed you.
With tickseed, burdocks and dirt
Covering everything!
And how it did thunder!

   And that poem Hulsbuck entitled “Not a Hair Injured.”

Take care,
The Old Professor

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