The Breitmann Ballads Part 6

HANS BREITMANN AND HIS PHILOSOPEDE.

Vhen Breitmann hear dat Schnitzerl Vas quardered into dwo, Und how his crate philosopede To 'm tyfel had peen flew, He d.i.n.ked und d.i.n.ked so heafy, Ash only Deutschers can, Denn saidt, "Who mighdt peliefet Dish is de ent of man?"

"De human souls of beoples Exisdt in deir idees, Und dis of Wolfram Schnitzerl Mighdt drafel many vays.

In his Bestimmung des Menschen Der Fichte makes pelieve, Dat ve brogress oon-endtly In vhat pehindt ve leave.

"De shparrow falls ground-downvarts Or drafels to de West; De shparrows dat coom afder, Bild shoost de same old nest.

Man had not vings or fedders, Und in oder dings, 'tis set, He tont coom up to shparrows, But on nests he goes ahet.

"O! vliest dou droo bornin' vorldts, Und nebuloser foam, By monsdrous mitnight shiant forms, Or vhere red tyfels roam; Or vhere de ghosdts of shky-rockets Peyond creation flee?

Vhere e'er dou art, O Schnitzerlein, Crate Saindt! Look down on me!

"Und deach me how you maket Dat crate philosopede, Vhich roon dwice six mals vaster Ash any Arap shteed.

Und deach me how to 'stonish volk, Und knock dem oud de shpots.

Coom pack to eart', O Schnitzerlein, Und pring id down to dots!"

Shoost ash dish vordt vent outvarts, Hans d.i.n.ked he saw a vlash, Und oonterwards de dable He doompelt mit a crash.

Und to him, moong de gla.s.ses, Und pottles ash vas proke, Mit his het in a cigar-box, A foice from Himmel shpoke:

"Adsum, Domine Breitmann!

Herr Copitain, here I pe!

So dell me rite honeste, Quare inquietasti me?

Te video inter spoonibus, Et largis gla.s.sis too, Cerevisia repletis, Sicut percussus tonitru!"

Denn Breitmann ansver Schnitzerl; "Coarctor nimis, see!

Siquidem Philistiim Pugnant adversum me.

Ergo vocavi te, Ash Saul vocavit Sam- Uel, ut mi ostenderes Quid teufel faciam?"

Denn de shpirit (in Lateinisch) Saidt "Bene, dat's de talk, Non habes in hoc shanty, A shingle et some chalk?

Non video ink.u.m nec calamos (I shpose some b.u.mmer shdole 'em), Levate oculos tuos, son, Et aspice ad linteolum!"

Denn Breitmann see de biece of chalk Vhich riset vrom de vloor, Und signed a fine philosopede Alone, oopon de toor.

De von dat Schnitzerl fobricate, Und oonderneat' he see: Probate inter equites, (Try dis in de cavallrie).

Der Breitmann shtood oop from de vloor, Und leanet on a post; Und saidt: "If dis couldt, shouldt hafe peen, Dar vouldt, mighdt peen a ghosdt; Boot if id pe noumenon, Phenomenoned indeed, Or de soobyectif obyectified, I'fe cot de philosopede."

Denn out he seekt a plackschmit, Ash vork in iron-steel, To make him a philosopede Mit shoost an only vheel.

De dings vas maket simple, Ash all crate idees shouldt pe, For 'tvas noding boot a gart-vheel, Mit a dwo-feet axel dree.

De dimes der Breitmann doomple, In learnin' for to ride, Vas ofdener ash de sand-crains Dat rollen in de tide.

De dimes he cot oopsettet, In shdeerin' left und righdt, Vas ofdener ash de cleamin' shdars, Dat shtud de shky py night.

Boot de vorstest of de veadures In dis von-vheel horse, you pet, Ish dat man couldt go so nicely, Pefore he get oopset.

Some dimes he co like plazes, Und doorn her, extra-fine; Und denn shlop ofer - dis is vot Hafe kill der Schnitzerlein.

Soosh droples ash der Breitmann hafe, To make dis 'vention go, Vas nefer seen py mordal man, Oopon dis vorldt pelow.

He doomplet righdt - he doomplet left, He hafe a dousand doomps; Dere nefer vas a gricket ball Ash get soosh 'fernal boomps.

Boot - ash he'd shvearet he'd poot it droo, He shvear't it moost pe tone; Dough he schimpft' und flucht' gar laesterlich, He visht he't ne'er pegun.

Mit "Hagel! Blitz! Kreuz-sakrament!"

He maket de Houser ring, Und vish der Schnitzerl vas in h.e.l.l, For deachin' him dis ding.

Nun - goot! At lasht he cot it, Und peautifool he goed, "Dis day," saidt he, "I'll 'stonish folk A ridin' in de road.

Dis day, py shings! I'll do it, Und knock dings oud of sight:"- Ach weh! - for Breitmann dat day Vas not be-markt mit vhite.

De noombers of de Deutsche volk, Dat coomed dis sighdt to see, I d.i.n.k, in soper earnst-hood, Mighdt not ge-reckonet pe.

For miles dey shtoodt along de road, Mein Gott! - boot dey wer'n dry; Dey trinket den lager-bier shops out, Pefore der Hans coom py.

Vhen all at vonce drementous gries De fery c.o.o.ndry shook, Und beople's shkreemt, "Da ist er! - Schau!

Here cooms der Breitmann, look!"

Mein Gott! vas efer soosh a sighdt!

Vas efer soosh a gry!

Vhen like a brick-pat in a vighdt, Der Breitemann roosh py?

Oh mordal man! Vhy ish idt, dou Hast pa.s.sion to go vast?

Vhy ish id dat te tog und horse Likes shbeed too quick to lasht?

De pugs, de pirds, de pumple-pees, Und all dat ish, 'tvouldt seem Ish nefer hobby boot, exsepdt, Vhen pilin' on de shdeam.

Der Breitmann flew! Von mighdy gry Ash he vent scootin' bast; Von derriple, drementous yell;- Dat day de virst - und lasht.

Vot ha! Vot ho! Vhy ish it dus?

Vhot makes dem shdare aghasht?

Vhy cooms dat vail of vild deshbair?

Ish somedings cot ge-shmasht?

Yea, efen so. Yea, ferily, Shbeak, soul!-it ish dy biz!

Der Breitmann shkeet so vast along Dey fairly heard him whizz.

Vhen shoost oopon a hill-top point It caught a pranch ge-bent, Und like an apple from a shling, Afay Hans Breitmann vent.

Vent droo de air an hoondert feet Allowin' more or lees:- Denn, pob-pob-pob - a mile or dwo He rollet along - I guess.

Say - hast dou seen a gannon ball Half shpent, shtill poundin' on, Like made of gummi-lastic.u.m?- So vent der Breitmann.

Dey bick him oop - dey pring him in, No wort der Breitmann shboke.

Der doktor look - he shwear erstaunt Dat nodings ish peen proke.

"He rollt de rocky road entlang, He pounce o'er shtock und shtone, You'd d.i.n.k he'd knocked his outsites in, Yet nefer preak a pone!"

All shtill Hans lay, bevilderfied; He seemt not mind de shaps, Nor mofed oontil der medicus Hafe dose him vell mit schnapps.

De schmell voke oop de boetry Of tays vhen he vas yoong, Und he murmulte de fragmends Of an sad romantish song:

"Ash sommer pring de roses Und roses pring de dew, So Deutschland gifes de maidens Who fetch de bier for you.

Komm Maidelein! rothe Waengelein!

Mit wein-gla.s.s in your paw!

Ve'll get troonk among de roses, Und pe soper on de shtraw!

"Ash vinter pring de ice-wind Vitch plow o'er Burg und hill, Hard times pring in de landlord, Und de landlord pring the pill.

Boot sing Maidelein - rothe Waengelein!

Mit wein gla.s.s in your paw!

Ve'll get troonk among de roses, Und pe soper on de shtraw!"