Es Pennsilfaanisch Deitsch Eck

(Originally published in the June 16, 1982 issue of
The Shopping News)

PA!
By Paul B. Horning

On Sunday, May 9, we gave honor to

And sang the praises of Ma.

Now, a little later on, it behooves us

To say something good about Pa.

How nice it was when we were young

To know that Ma tried to keep us good,

But she could not do it alone,

So Pa, at all times by her stood.

When Pa hitched “Topsy” to the buggy

For a pleasant Sunday afternoon drive,

How we all rejoiced together

When he brought us back alive.

And later when Pa bought a Tin Lizzie,

How safe and secure we all would feel,

And how we enjoyed each long ride,

When good, old Pa was at the wheel.

Then Ma would cook a nice big meal

And all of us enjoyed it so.

We were tired and hungry, too,

And Pa had brought home the “dough.”

And when the Circus came to town

With big elephants, tigers, lions, too,

Pa lifted us on his shoulders so we could see

The clowns and all – it was better than the zoo.

The big brass Band and booming Drum,

The loud music that they made,

Pa kept us on his shoulder still,

So we could see the big parade.

Then coming home on the crowded Trolley

We thought it was mighty neat

That Pa stood up in the aisle

So that Ma could have a seat.

When later on to School we’d go

And the rain came down, filled every street

With water puddles; Pa came by after School

And carried us home so we wouldn’t get wet feet.

That proud day when Pa took me to town

And bought me my first long pants suit,

Then stopped at the jewelry store

And bought me a dollar watch to boot.

O, wonderful day, when sweet Alice caught my eye

And I thought that she was so very nice.

Ma told Pa to take me for a walk

And give me some fatherly advice.

So we grew big, had families of our own,

And Pa was old, took sick one night,

Didn’t last long; Ma called us on the phone

And said, “Your kind and loving Pa has died.”

We all grieved so much and cried,

Our oldest Son, just turned eleven,

Wiped his eyes, look at me and said,

“Don’t weep no more, Grandpa has gone to Heaven.”

The poem, PA!, reached us just in time for this column the week before Father’s Day. Paul B. Horning writes as follows about it: “Es hen paar Leit vun der Effredaa Gegend mich katzlich bsucht. Sie lese die Shopping News, awwer kenne des Pennsilfaanisch Deitsch schier net lese. So hab ich ebbes gschriwwe in Englisch fer sie. Ich deet liewer ebmols Englisch schreiwe as wie so viel Englische Wadde brauche in der Mudderschprooch. Ich saag: ‘Loss uns die Mudderschprooch glaar halde. Ich lieb sie.’” (A few people from the Ephrata section visited me recently. They read The Shopping News but can hardly read the Pennsylvania Dutch. So I wrote something in English for them. Sometimes I’d rather write in English because of the necessity to use so many English words in Dutch. I say: ‘Let’s keep our mother tongue clear. I love her.’)

***

So that we don’t get away from Die Mudderschprooch completely this week, we want to give a dialect version of “Here We Go Round The Mulberry Bush,” which we found in the April 1982 issue of The Gateway Of Hope, published in Schaefferstown, Pennsylvania by The Gospel Center.

So gehne mir um der Maulbeerebaum,

Der Maulbeerebaam, der Maulbeerebaum.

Do gehne mire um der Maulbeerebaam

Am me scheene kalde Mariye.

Denne Weg warre die Hend gewesche,

Die Hend gewesche, die Hend gewesche.

Denne Weg warre die Hend gewesche,

Am me scheene kalde Mariye.

Denne Weg warre die Gleeder gebascht,

Die Gleeder gebascht, die Gleeder gebascht.

Denne Weg warre die Gleeder gebascht,

Am me scheene kalde Mariye.

Denne Weg gehne mir in die Schul,

In die Schul, in die Schul.

Denne Weg gehne mir in die Schul,

Am me scheene kalde Mariye.

***

June 16, 1982

Es Bischli-Gnippli