PA German Dialect

Es Neinuhr Schtick

                                                                  
 
September 09, 2004

Ihr liewe Leit:

   Wie gsaat, mer kann viel Deitsch schwetze unnich viel Englisch zu benutze, abbaddich wann mer vun deitsche Sache schwetzt. Awwer kann mer aa fillisofisch waare? Do sin zwee scheene Beischpiele, es aerscht vum Charles Calvin Ziegler (1854-1930):

Du Wolk mit de weisse Fliggel!
Wuhie so hooch im Luftsee
Fliegscht du iwwer die Felder,
Weit iwwer Wald un Wasser,
Leicht un schnell wie’n Schneegans?
Vum See un der Sunn gebore
Gschwische der Aerd un em Himmel,
Schtill iss dei Gang un geischtlich;
Weider un als noch weider
Sehn ich dich fliege, fliege-
Wascht immer glenner un glenner—
Endlich bischt gans usichbaar
Am End vun der Aerd un em Himmel.

Du wunnerschee weisses Luftkind,
Geyaagt vum gewaldiche Windgott,
Bischt vun meim Lied en Bildniss.
Mei Lied geht leicht un geischtlich
Iwwer die Weld un Mensche;
Un die Mensche begucke es en Zeitlang:
‘En schee Lied” – saage sie schleefrich;
Un mei Lied fliegt fatt wie die Wolke
Un weit in der Faern verliert sich.
Mei Lied mit de weisse Fliggel!
Wu bischt du,un was iss dei Schicksaal?
Villeicht, villeicht wascht du gfunne
Wu die Welt un der Himmel sin eenich.

Macht’s gut,
Der Alt Professer



 
Dear people:

   As we have said, one can talk a lot of Pennsylvania German without using much English, especially if one speaks of all German things. But can one also become philosophical? Here are two nice examples, the first by Charles Calvin Ziegler (1848-1930):
 

You cloud with the white wings!
Whereto so high in the ocean of air
Do you fly over the fields,
Far above forest and water,
Lightly and quickly as a snow goose?
Borne by the sea and the sky,
Quiet is your pace and ghostly;
Farther even farther
I see you fly, fly—
You become smaller and smaller—
Finally you are entirely invisible
At the end of the Earth and the sky.
 

You beautifully white air-child
Chased by the powerful wind-god,
You are analogous to my song.
My song goes lightly and ghostly
Over the Earth and people;
And the people look at it for a while:
“A nice song,” – they say sleepily;
an my song flies away like the clouds
and loses itself in the distance.
My song with the white wings!
Where are you, and what is your fate?
Maybe, maybe you will be found
Where the world and the sky are one.

Take care,
The Old Professor

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