LL-L "Orthography" 2005.08.11 (03) [E/LS]
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Thu Aug 11 22:02:43 UTC 2005
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L O W L A N D S - L * 11.AUG.2005 (03) * ISSN 189-5582 * LCSN 96-4226
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A=Afrikaans Ap=Appalachian B=Brabantish D=Dutch E=English F=Frisian
L=Limburgish LS=Lowlands Saxon (Low German) N=Northumbrian
S=Scots Sh=Shetlandic V=(West) Flemish Z=Zeelandic (Zeêuws)
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From: Global Moose Translations <globalmoose at t-online.de>
Subject: LL-L "Orthography" 2005.08.11 (02) [E/LS]
Ron wrote:
>So I would
> have to be convinced about the exceptional and exemptitious status of
> Sollingen Eastphalian, but there appears to be little chance of that,
given
> its elusive nature.
Lower Saxon, actually. And Sollinger Platt, not Sollingen (this is confusing
enough, because I just moved from Solingen near the Rhine to Schoningen in
the Solling, and the neighbour village is named Sohlingen!). How can you
call it Eastphalian if you have never heard it? That is like assuming that
Plautdietsch must be a variety of English, given the geographical location
of those who speak it.
As I said, I will try to come up with some written examples, but I am
extremely busy right now (completely swamped with multimedia translations,
this is the season when software manufacturers prepare for the Christmas
business) and do not have the time to do extensive research, but I promise I
will as soon as I can. It is elusive all right, and spoken by a very
close-knitted group.
By the way, it is really easy to tell among my neighbours who grew up
speaking Lower Saxon, and who didn't. The former group roll their "r"s in
High German, while the others barely pronounce them (vowels are slightly
different, too).
Gabriele Kahn
----------
From: R. F. Hahn <sassisch at yahoo.com>
Subject: Orthography
Hi, Gabriele!
> Lower Saxon, actually. And Sollinger Platt, not Sollingen (this is
> confusing
> enough, because I just moved from Solingen near the Rhine to Schoningen in
> the Solling, and the neighbour village is named Sohlingen!). How can you
> call it Eastphalian if you have never heard it?
I got confused with what we once discussed about the dialect you grew up
around, apparently one of the westernmost dialects of the Eastphalian range
leading over to the Westphalian one. Anyway, I roughly know where the
Solling is and in connection with the above assumed that it was Eastphalian
Low Saxon of roughly the same range. Furthermore, I'm familiar with some
writing from that general part of Southern Lower Saxony, and I've come
across snippets like _... da' geiht meck nich üut'n Sinne_, _Hei is
mannigen Dagg int Holt egoahen_ and _Et harre könnt noch schlimmer kumen_,
all of which looks like farwestern Eastphalian. The Solling area is
situated right on the border between Eastphalian and Westphalian and tends
to be included in Eastphalian. However, I look at that entire swatch as
transitional and roughly sort out Eastfalian varieties by the presence of
_mik_ ~ _mek_ 'me' and _dik_ ~ _dek_ 'thee' where others have _mi_ and _di_
respectively. (And there are other features such as _Luite_ ~ _Liute_ where
others have _Lüde_ ~ _Lüüd'_ ~ _Lüe_ ~ _Lü_ for 'folks', but these only
apply in patches.)
This middle range falls into an area that was the Old Saxon state of Angria
wedged between Westphalia to the west, Eastphalia to the east and the North
Saxon domain ("Southern Albingia," south of Northern Albingia) to the north.
It came to be devided up, mostly between Westphalia and Eastphalia, thus
lost its specific identity. Furthermore, the area borders on the
northernmost (Central) German dialect range, thus represents one of the
southernmost Saxon dialect reaches (going into the north of what is now the
state of Hesse). (No wonder there's some sort of identity crisis around
there, that people in that area don't know if they are here or there, fish
or flesh ... ;-) )
Changing gears ...
Jim, folks, here's some more about Plautdietsch:
De Varjoarschnacht
Soon Varjoah kjemmt nich mea trigj,
Uk nich de junge Joahre.
Woo, äwa woone lange Brigj,
Met woon Jespaun kunn eena trigj
Noh siene Jugend foahre?
Soo stell schleep donn de wiede Stap
Aus bloos Jlekj opp'e Ead hia,
De Vollmond schiend soo dach, soo dach,
Daut eena jiedret Blautje sag,
Wan sikj de Asta reahde.
Donn bleajde grod de Apelbeem,
De Tulpe un de Fleeda;
Donn stund de oole Kruschtjebeem*
En siene wundaboare Dreem
En witte Bloomekjleeda.
Woo rikjd et doch soo wundascheen,
Von aul däm väle Bleaje!
Wan dan de Nachtwind schockle kjeem,
Wull he sikj opp de Goadebeem
Een seeta Schlop enweaje!
De Nacht, een Selwaschleia laigt
Opp aul de Pracht opp Eade;
Et haud de Stearns enjewäwt,
Un jiedret funkeld, blitzd un bäwd,
Aus wan se't Varjoah jeade.
Soo stell schleep opp de wiede Stap,
Ons Darp un Bloomegoade,
Aus wan een Kraunz en jane Nacht,
Dee ekj niemols vejäte hab,
Daut Varjoah haud veloare.
Soon Varjoah kjemmt nich mea trigj,
Uk nich de junge Joahre.
Woo, äwa woone lange Brigj,
Met woon Jespaun kunn eena trigj
Noh siene Jugend foahre?
Probably by Helena Schmidt, Zelinograd, Kazakhstan,
1962 (recorded in Orlovo, Altai Region, Russia, 1992)
***
"Normalized" German-based spelling of the above:
De Verjahrsnacht
So'n Verjahr kimmt nich mehr trigg,
Uk nich de junge Jahre.
Wo, äver wo'ne lange Brigg,
Mit wo 'n Jespann kunn eener trigg
Na siene Jugend fahre?
So still schleep donn de wiede Stepp
As bloos Jlick op 'e Eerd hier,
De Vollmaand schient so deeg, so deeg,
Dat eener jiedret Blattje seeg,
Wenn sik de Äste rehrde.
Donn blehde graad de Äppelbeem,
De Tulpe un de Fleder;
Donn stund de ole Kruschkebeem*
In siene wunderbare Dreem
In witte Blomekleder.
Wo riekt it doch so wunderscheen,
Von all dem väle Blehje!
Wenn denn de Nachtwind schockle keem,
Wull he sik op de Gardebeem
Een seter Schlaap inweje!
De Nacht, een Silverschleier leegt
Op all de Pracht op Eerde;
It hett de Steerns injewäävt,
Un jiedret funkelt, blitzt un bäävt,
As wenn se 't Verjahr jeerde.
So still schleep op de wiede Stepp,
Ons Derp un Blomegarde,
As wenn een Kranz in jenne Nacht,
De ik niemaals verjäte hebb,
Dat Verjahr hett verlare.
So'n Verjahr kemmt nich mehr trigg,
Uk nich de junge Jahre.
Wo, äver wo'ne lange Brigg,
Mit wo 'n Jespann kunn eener trigg
Na siene Jugend fahre?
***
AS spelling:
De verjaars-nacht
So 'n verjaar kimt nich meyr trig,
Uk nich de jungen jaren.
Wou, ever wou 'ne lange brig,
Mit wou 'n jespan kun eyner trig
Na syne jugend varen?
So stil sleyp don de wyde step
As bloos jlik op 'e eyrd hyr,
De volmaand schynt so deyg, so deyg,
Dat eyner jydret blatje seyg,
Wen sik de este reerden.
Don bleyde graad de eppel-beym,
De tulpe un de vleyder;
Don stund de olde kruschke-beym*
In syne wunderbaren dreym
In witte bloume-kleyder.
Wou rykt it doch so wunder-scheyn,
Von al dem velen bleyjen!
Wen den de nachtwind schoklen keym,
Wul he sik op de garden-beym
Eyn seyter slaap in-weyje!
De nacht, eyn silver-slayer leegt
Op al de pracht op eyrden;
It het de steyrns in-jeweevt,
Un jydret vunkelt, blitst un beevt,
As wen se 't verjaar jeyrden.
So stil sleyp op de wyde step,
Ons derp un bloumen-garden,
As wen eyn krants in jenne nacht,
Dey ik nymaals verjeten heb,
Dat verjahr het verlaren.
So 'n verjaar kimt nich meyr trig,
Uk nich de jungen jaren.
Wou, ever wou 'ne lange brig,
Mit wou 'n jespan kun eyner trig
Na syne jugend varen?
____
* _Kruschkje_ ~ _Kruschtje_ 'pear' is a Slavonic loan; cf. Polish _gruszka_,
Ukrainian груша _hruša_, _Russian груша _gruša_. Most likely, it is derived
from Kashubian _krëszka_.
N.B.:
Some dialects of Plautdietsch have _-en_ where others have _-e_.
Orthographically this could be normalized as in Dutch: by writing <-en> with
the option of pronouncing it _-e_ [@].
***
North Saxon translation (R. F. Hahn): German-based spelling:
De Vörjahrsnacht
So'n Vörjahr kümmt di nich mehr trügg,
Ok nich de jungen Jahren.
Wo, œver wat för'n lange Brügg,
Mit welk Gespann kunn een weer trügg
Na siene Jœgdtied fahren?
So still sleep donn de wiede Stepp
As man bloos Glück op Eeren hier,
De Vollmaand schient so deeg', so deeg',
Dat een jedet Blattje seeg',
Wenn sik de Telgen röhren.
Donn blöh ok jüst de Appelbööm,
De Tulpen un de Fleder;
Donn stünd de ole Beerenboom
In all sien wunnerbaren Drööm
In witte Blomenkleder.
Wat rüükt dat doch so wunnerschöön
Von all dat vele Blöhen!
Wenn denn de Nachtwind schuckeln keem,
Wull he sik op de Gardenbööm
Eyn soyten slaap in-weygen!
De Nacht, een Sülversleier liggt
Op all de Pracht op Eeren;
Dat hett de Steerns all mit inweevt,
Un jedet funkelt, blitzt un beevt,
As wenn se 't Vörjahr geeren.
So still sleep op de wiede Stepp,
Ons Dörp un Blomengarden,
As wenn een Kranz in de daar Nacht,
De ik nie nich vergeten hebb,
Dat Vörjahr hett verlaren.
So'n Vörjahr kümmt di nich mehr trügg,
Ok nich de jungen Jahren.
Wo, œver wat för'n lange Brügg,
Mit welk Gespann kunn een weer trügg
Na siene Jœgdtied fahren?
***
North Saxon translation (R. F. Hahn): AS spelling:
De vörjaars-nacht
So 'n vörjaar kümt di nich meyr trüg,
Ook nich de jungen jaren.
Wou, oever wat vör 'n lange brüg,
Mit welk gespan kun eyn weer trüg
Na syne joegdtyd varen?
So stil sleyp don de wyde step
As man bloos glük op eyrden hyr,
De volmaand schynt so deyg', so deyg',
Dat eyn jedet bladje seyg',
Wen sik de telgen royren.
Don bloyd' ook jüst de appel-boym,
De tulpen un de vleyder;
Don stünd de olde beren-boum
In al syn wunner-baren droym
In witte bloumen-kleyder.
Wat ruykt dat doch so wunner-schoyn
Von al dat vele bloyen!
Wen den de nachtwind schukkeln keym,
Wul hey sik op de gardenboym
Eyn soyten slaap in-weygen!
De nacht, eyn sülver-slayer ligt
Op al de pracht op eyren;
Dat het de steyrns al mit in-weevd,
Un jeydet vunkelt, blitst un beevt,
As wen sey 't voerjaar geyren.
So stil sleyp op de wyde step,
Ons dörp un bloumen-garden,
As wen eyn krants in dey daar nacht,
Dey ik ny nich vergeten heb,
Dat voerjaar het verlaren.
So 'n vörjaar kümt di nich meyr trüg,
Ook nich de jungen jaren.
Wou, oever wat vör 'n lange brüg,
Mit welk gespan kun eyn weer trüg
Na syne joegdtyd varen?
***
English Translation (R. F. Hahn):
That Night in Spring
A spring like that will not be back;
The days of youth won't either.
How, going across what long bridge,
What team of horses might take you
All the way back to childhood?
The great, vast steppe was sleeping then,
When on this earth there was just bliss.
The full moon shone so bright, so bright,
That you could see each leaf alight
With twigs and branches stirring.
That's when the apple trees would bloom,
The tulips and the lilac.
That's when the old pear tree would stand
All lost in lovely, wondrous dreams,
Its dress made of white blossoms.
How sweet the scent was in the air
From all that luscious blooming!
And when the night wind bobbled in
It sought to rock itself to sleep
Up in the garden's treetops.
And night, a silver veil, would lie
Above all splendor here on earth,
And interwoven were the stars,
And each one sparkled, quivered, flashed,
As though lusting for springtime.
And sleeping on the great, vast steppe
Would be our town and flowery yards,
As if the wreath of that one night,
That I have not forgotten since,
Had sacrificed its springtime.
A spring like that will not be back;
The days of youth won't either.
How, going across what long bridge,
What team of horses might take you
All the way back to childhood?
Regards,
Reinhard/Ron
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