Dialect literature, American; German Americans -- Poetry; Humorous poetry, American; Wit and humor
Dat ish de vay dese Ballads
Foorst vere crooshed in ploot and shdorm,
Fool many a day moost bass afay
Pefore dey dook dis form.
De copy flootered o'er de preasts
Of heroes lyin todt,
Dis vas de dire peginnin-
Das war des Breitmann's Noth.
Dis song in Philadelphia
Long dimes ago pegun,
In Paris vas gondinued, und
In Dresden ist full-done.
If any toubt apout de facts,
In nople minds ish grew,
Let dem ashk Carl Benson Bristed,
He knows id all ish drue.
Und now, dese Breitmann shdories
In gebrindt in many a lant,
Sogar in far Australia
Dey're gestohlen und bekannt:-
"Geh hin mein Puch in alle VVelt
Steh auss was dir kompt zu!
Man beysse Dich, man reysse Dich
Nur dass man mir nichts thu!"[79]
BREITMANN'S LAST BALLADS.
BREITMANN IN TURKEY.
DERR BREITMANN hear im Turkenreich
Vas fighten high und low,
"Steh auf, oh Schwackenhammer mein!
It's dime for us to go.
Zieh dein Kanonenstiefel an,
Und schleife Dir das Schwert,
Schon lang her han mer nichts gethan,
Der Weg ist reitenswerth."[80]
"Oopon vitch side? I hartly know
Boot von side in dis war:
Dere ist de holy Russ-land
All mit a holy Tsar;
But I pe not a holy-er,
Nor you von Saint, I fear;
Out line is holy ploonder,
Mit sacred Lager-bier.
"Dere's von Constantinoble-man
Vot write to me, und say
He kits me an commission
To make me Breitmann Bey,
Und if I mounts de turpan
Und keeps de Muslin law,
Und bribes ein wenig, den I rise
To Breitemann Pasha.
"Dis much is drue, dat Toorkey is
A real Powder land,
Und if dey're goin' to touch it off,
Vy, ve moost pe on hand.
Und if ve shpring into de airs
Vhile meddlin' in de fuss,
I rader dink some Russian bears
Vill shpring along mit us."
Und ven he kit to Turkreich
Der Breitmann work like mad,
Und kit ein corps togeder,-
Mein Gott! vat men he had!
Mit Polers und mit Shipsies,
Ungaren, Turks, und such,
Und allerlei Gesindel. "Hei!"
Says Hans: "dis beats de Dutch!"
Den onwards to his Schicksal[81]
Und forvarts troo de night,
Und oopwarts to his mission,
Und downvarts in de vight.
Until in de Bulgaren
Von night his horse he strode,
Und meet a tausand Kossacks
Pefore him on de road.
Slap forward rode der Breitmann
Right on de Kossack spears,
But forvarts coom deir leader
And halted his careers,
Und gry, "O Turkisch Ritter,
I am de Capitan,
And if you want a shindy,
Step up, and I'm your man."
Dey fightet like der teufel,
Dey fightet mit deir swords,
Und Breitmann vould hafe kilt him,
But 'twas not on de cards,
For de Kossack fire a bistol
As his retreadt pegan,-
Down from his horse all senseless
Flop! went der Breitemann.
Vhen he hafe kit his senses,
Der Breitmann find he lay
Insite a nople castell,
Upon a canape;
Und py his side a lady
So wunderschon to see,
Vas shlisin oop a lemon
Indo a cop of thee.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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