PA German Dialect

Der Regeboge / The Rainbow

July 22, 1999

Ihr liewe Leit: 

Letscht Woch hot der Ralph Funk in seim Gedicht "Der Schtarrern" vun me Regeboge gschriwwe. In seim Gedicht "Der Regeschtarrem" schreibt er:

So'n gschwinder Schtarrern vergeht aa gschwind
Gedriwwe bei me hoche Wind;
Wolke hen sich schun verzoge,
Guck wie schee der Regeboge!

Un druffhie muss ich aa denke
An der Haffe Gold am Henke
An de Enner, wie's als gsaat waar,
Un wie mer heert, aa gsucht devor.

Der "Vadder vun der Deitsche Lidderradur," der Henry Harbaugh (1817-1867), hot aa mol fer's Gold am End vurnme Regeboge gsucht. Er saagt uns devun in seirn Gedicht "Der Regeboge." Heit fange mer en paar Vaerscht devun aa:

In der scheene Nadur sin gaar viel scheene Sache,
Die Blumme wu bliehe, die Gricklin wu lache,
Die Veggel wu singe, die Wolke wu fliege,
Die Wasser wu haerlich in Sunnelicht liege,
Die Deeler, die Hiwwle, die Felder un Wisse,
Die Baerge, die schier gaar dier Himmel duhn kisse;
Bin ich awwer nau net greislich bedrooge,
So biedt sie bei weidem der schee Regeboge!

Warm Dunner un Wedder im Summer gehn
iwwer, Dann kannscht du was sehne am Himmel, mei Liewer,
Es hebt sich des Wetter im Weschde en wennich---
Noh guckt die Sunn raus wie'n glorreicher Keenich;
Dann gebt's in ihr Schtraahle en Droppegewimmel
Un datt schteht der Boge im dunkele Himmel!

Een Fuuss uff de Baerge un een Fuuss im Daale,
Den Schoh kannscht du selme un brauchscht nix bezaahle!
Fillassifers, die sin gaar weis heitzedaage,
Un hen hoche Dinge vum Boge zu saage:
"Des iss die Nadur---die dutt all des so mache."
Ihr groosses Geblabber macht mich numme lache!
Was geb ich um all ihre dummi Nadur;
Mei Boge messt kenner mit so eener Schnur;
Sie schwetze mir gut---es iss alles geloge
Fer nimmand als Gott macht der schee Regeboge!
Horch net uff die Gelannde, loss sie numme schwetze, 
Sie roppe dir yuscht alles Scheene in Fetze;
Weck, weck mit dem gscheide Geprall un
Gedengel,
Glaab liewer der Boge sei Brick fer die Engel! 
Eens weess ich gewiss, darrich ihn duht Gott kunde 
Sei Zeiche der Liewe im ewichen Bunde:
So lang dass der Boge am Himmel duht schtche, 
Kann nie meh die Erde mit Wasser vergehe!

Mer mache neegscht Woch weider.

Macht's gut, 

Der Alt Professer
Dear people:

Last week Ralph Funk wrote about a rainbow inhis poem "The Storm." In his poem "The Rain-storm" he writes:

Such a fast storm also goes quickly,
Driven by a high wind;
Clouds have already dissipated,
Look how beautiful the rainbow!

And thus I must also think
About the pot of gold hanging
At the ends, as they used to say,
And as one hears, is also sought after.

The "Father of PG Literature," Henry Harbaugh (1817-1867) once also looked for the gold at the end of a rainbow. He tells us about it in his poem "The Rainbow." Today we will begin a few verses of it:

In beautiful nature there are many beautiful things,
The flowers that bloom, the brooklets that laugh,
The birds that sing, the clouds that fly,
The waters that lie gloriously in the sunlight,
The valleys, the hills, the fields and meadows, 
The mountains that almost kiss the sky;
But if I am now not terribly deceived,
Then the beautiful rainbow beats them by far!

When thunder and weather in summer go over, 
Then you can see something in the sky, my dear one,
The weather lifts in the west a bit---
Then the sun looks out like a glorious king;
Then in its rays there's a swarming of drops
And there stands the rainbow in the dark sky! 

One foot on the mountains and one foot in the valley,
You can see the show and don't have to pay anything!
Philosophers, they are very wise these days,
And have lofty things to say about the rainbow: 
"That is nature---it does all of that."
Their great blather makes me just laugh!
What do I care about their dumb nature:
My rainbow is not measured with such a string;
That's all fine talk; it is all a lie,
For no one but God makes the beautiful rainbow!

Don't listen to the learned ones, just let them talk, 
They just rip everything beautiful into shreds;
Away, away with that smart boasting and noise,
Believe rather that the bow is a bridge for angels! 
One thing I know for sure; through it God proclaims 
His sign of love in eternal union:
As long as the rainbow stands in the sky,
The Earth can never again vanish in water!


We will continue next week.

Take care,

The Old Professor

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