LL-L 'Songs' 2006.10.22 (03] [E/LS/S/Danish/German]
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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 (Zeeuws)
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L O W L A N D S - L * 22 October 2006 * Volume 03
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From: 'Jacqueline Bungenberg de Jong' [Dutchmatters at comcast.net]
Subject: LL-L 'Songs' 2006.10.21 (01) [E]
Hi Pat, It is not one poem but stanzas from several poems; and yes they are
all in Dutch! Jacqueline
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From: 'Scat' [Scat at cfl.rr.com]
Subject: LL-L 'Songs' 2006.10.21 (01) [E]
I learned this at home from my mother-a sixth-generation
American of Scottish ancestry
Scott Catledge
For fame and for fortune I wandered the earth
And now I've come back to the land of my birth
I've brought back my treasures but only to find
They're less than the pleasures I first left behind
For these are my mountains and this is my glen
The braes of my childhood will know me again
No land's ever claimed me tho' far I did roam
For these are my mountains and I'm going home
The burn by the road sings at my going by
The whaup overhead wings with welcoming cry
The loch where the scart flies at last I can see
It's here that my heart lies it's here I'll be free
Kind faces will meet me and welcome me in
And how they will greet me my ain kith and kin
The night round the ingle old sangs will be sung
At last I'll be hearing my ain mother tongue.
----------
From: Sandy Fleming [sandy at scotstext.org]
Subject: LL-L 'Songs' 2006.10.21 (01) [E]
>From: Pat Reynolds <pat at caerlas.demon.co.uk>
>Subject: LL-L 'culture
>
>Dear All,
>
>While it's quiet ...
>
>For you, which poem best encapsulates your idea of 'home' - whether
>'home' is a country, a house, or wherever you lay your hat?
>
>Is that poem in a language you learned 'at home'?
>
If you had said "song", then for me it would definitely be "Nae Luck
Aboot the Hoose":
An ar ye shuir the news is true?
An ar ye shuir he's weel?
Is this a time tae think on wark?
Ye jauds, fling by yer wheel!
Is this a time tae think on wark,
When Colin's at the door?
Rax me my coat I'll tae the quay
An see him come ashore.
For the'r nae luck aboot the hoose,
The'r nae luck at aa,
The'r little plaesure in the hoose
When oor guidman's awa.
Ryce up an mak a clean fireside,
Pit on the muckle pot,
Gie oor wee Kate her cotton goun,
And Jock his Sunday coat.
An mak their shuin as black as slaes,
Their hose as white as snaw,
It's aa tae please my ain guidman,
He likes tae see them braw.
An the'r nae luck aboot the hoose,
The'r nae luck at aa,
Ay, the'r little plaesure in the hoose
When oor guidman's awa.
The'r twa fat hens upon the bauk
Haes fed this month an mair,
Mak haste an thraw their necks aboot
That Colin weel mey fare.
An spreid the table neat an clean
Gar ilka thing leuk braw,
For wha can tell hou Colin fared
When he wis far awa?
An the'r nae luck aboot the hoose,
The'r nae luck at aa,
Oh, the'r little plaesure in the hoose
When oor guidman's awa.
There are other verses, but I tend to leave out the sentimental stuff :)
shuir: sure
weel: well
wark: work (noun)
jauds: hussies
fling by: cast aside
wheel: spinning wheel
rax: reach
the'r: there is
nae: no
luck: prosperity, fortune, good feeling
guidman: husband
ryce: rise
goun: gown
shuin: shoes
slaes: sloeberries
hose: socks, stockings
snaw: snow
braw: beautiful, magnificent
ay: yes
bauk: shelf where hens roost
mair: more
thraw: twist
spreid the table: lay the table
gar: cause to
ilka: every
leuk: look
wha: who
But poem? I can't think of any particular one. Generally speaking, poems
that talk about places I once knew as home will remind me of it, for
example John Buchan, who writes a lot about life in the Borders, or even
more so Robert Louis Stevenson, who was an Edinburgh man who knew East
Lothian well, but most of all Robert Fergusson, who often stayed in East
Lothian, lived in Edinburgh, and went to university at St Andrews. The
geographical map of his early life matches mine more closely than any
other poet and his poems comparing, for example, Fife and the Lothians
go over ground I often spent time thinking about myself at that age (I
was brought up in East Lothian, visited or worked in Edinburgh very
frequently, and went to university at St Andrews, I studied maths and
Fergusson even writes about James Gregory, the maths professor whose
life I was very interested in when I was there).
Sandy Fleming
http://scotstext.org/
-----------
From: R. F. Hahn [sassisch at yahoo.com]
Subject: Songs
Pat, Lowlanders,
I believe many North Germans that grew up at or near the coast tend to identify
with a hoomp-papa waltz that is sometimes referred to as _Friesenlied_ ("Songs of
the Frisians") in German, although it goes far beyond Frisian circles and is sung
either in Low Saxon or German. It is also known as _Nordseewellenwalzer_ ("North
Sea Waves Waltz"). In the east, all references to "North Sea" are changed to
"Baltic Sea" (LS _Oostsee_, G. _Ostsee_).
Below please find several versions: Low Saxon, German, Dansih and my impromptu
English translation. Before that thee are links to sheet music and MP3 sound files.
Enjoy!
Reinhard/Ron
***
Sheet music:
http://www.singenundspielen.de/Noten/Friesenlied.jpg
Instrumental:
http://www.singenundspielen.de/WebMP3/WodieNordsewellen.mp3
Choir: Shanty-Chor Carolinensiel:
http://www.shanty-chor.info/1Nordseewellen.mp3
Low Saxon I (linguistically suspect):
1. Wor de Nordseewellen trecken an de Strand,
Wor de geelen Blöme bleuhn int gröne Land,
|: Wor de Möwen schrieen gell int Stormgebrus,
Dor is mine Heimat, dor bün ick to Hus. :|
2 Well'n un Wogenruschen weern min Weegenleed,
Un de hohen Dieken seh'n min Kinnertied,
|: Markten ok min Sehnen un min heet Begehr:
Dör de Welt to flegen, ower Land un Meer. :|
3. Wohl hett mi dat Lewen all min Lengen still,
Hett mi all dat geven, wat min Hart erfüllt;
|: All dat is verswunnen, wat mi drück un dreev,
Hev dat Glück woll funnen, doch dat Heimweh bleev. :|
4. Heimweh nach min schöne, gröne Marschenland,
Wor de Nordseewellen trecken an de Strand,
|: Wor de Möwen schrieen gell int Stormgebrus,
Dor is mine Heimat, dor bün ick to Hus. :|
***
Low Saxon II (mine), AS spelling:
1.Waar de Nourdsey-bülgen trekken an den strand,
Waar de gelen bloumen bloyn in 't groyne land,
|: Waar de moywen schryen grel in 't stormgebruus',
Daar is myne haymaat, daar bün ik tou huus'. :|
2 Bülg'n- un wagenruuschen weyrn myn weygenleyd,
Un de hogen dyken seyn myn kindertyd,
|: Marken ook myn lengen un myn heyt begeyr:
Dörch de welt tou vleygen, oever land un meyr. :|
3. Wul het my dat leven al myn lengen stild,
Het my al dat geven wat myn hart ervült;
|: Al dat is verswunden wat my drük un dreyv',
Hev dat glük wul vunden, man dat haymwey bleyv'. :|
4. Haymwey naar myn schoynet, groynet marschenland,
Waar de Nourdsee-bülgen trekken an den strand,
|: Waar de moywen schryen grel in 't stormgebruus',
Daar is myne haymaat, daar bün ik tou huus'. :|
***
Low Saxon II (mine), German-based spelling:
1.Waar de Noordseebülgen trecken an den Strand,
Waar de gälen Blomen blöhn in't gröne Land,
|: Waar de Möwen schrieen grell in't Stormgebruus',
Daar is miene Heimaat, daar bün ik tohuus'. :|
2 Bülg'n- un Wagenruuschen weern mien Wegenleed,
Un de hogen Dieken sehn mien Kinnertied,
|: Marken ook mien Lengen un mien heet Begehr:
Dörch de Welt to flegen, œver Land un Meer. :|
3. Wull hett mi dat Läven all mien Lengen stillt,
Hett mi all dat gäven, wat mien Hart erfüllt;
|: All dat is verswunnen, wat mi drück un dreev',
Heff dat Glück wull funnen, man dat Heimweh bleev'. :|
4. Heimweh naar mien schönet, grönet Marschenland,
Waar de Noordseebülgen trecken an den Strand,
|: Waar de Möwen schrieen grell in't Stormgebruus',
Daar is miene Heimaat, daar bün ik tohuus'. :|
***
Low Saxon II (mine), Netherlands-type spelling:
1.Waor de Nóurdzéibulgen trekken aan den straand,
Waor de gelen blóumen bluin in 't gruine laand,
|: Waor de muiwen schrieën grel in 't stoormgebroez',
Daor is miene haaimaot, daor bun ik tóuhoez'. :|
2 Bulg'n- ón waogenroeschen wéirn mien wéigenléid,
Ón de hogen dieken zéin mien kinnertied,
|: Maarken ook mien lengen un mien héit begéir:
Dörch de wèèlt tóu vléigen, euver laand un méir. :|
3. Wól het mie dat leven aal mien lengen stild,
Het mie aal dat geven wat mien haart ervult;
|: Aal dat is verswónnen wat mie druk un dréiv',
Hef dat gluk wól vónnen, maan dat haaimwéi bléiv'. :|
4. Haaimwéi naor mien schuinet, gruinet maarschenlaand,
Waor de Nóurdzéibulgen trekken aan den straand,
|: Waor de muiwen schrieën grel in 't stoormgebroez',
Daor is miene haaimaot, daor bun ik tóuhoez'. :|
***
German:
Wo die Nordseewellen spülen an den Strand,
Wo die gelben Blumen blühn ins grüne Land,
|: Wo die Möwen schreien schrill im Sturmgebraus,
Da ist meine Heimat, da bin ich zu Haus. :|
2. Well'n und Wogen sangen mir mein Wiegenlied,
Hohe Deiche waren mir das "Gott behüt",
|: Merkten auch mein Sehnen und mein heiß Begehr:
Durch die Welt zu fliegen, über Land und Meer. :|
3. Wohl hat mir das Leben meine Qual gestillt,
Und mir das gegeben, was mein Herz erfüllt.
|: Alles ist verschwunden, was mir leid und lieb,
Hab das Glück gefunden, doch das Heimweh blieb. :|
4. Heimweh nach dem schönen, grünen Marschenland,
Wo die Nordseewellen spülen an den Strand,
|: Wo die Möwen schreien, schrill im Sturmgebraus,
Da ist meine Heimat, da bin ich zu Haus. :|
***
Danish:
Der, hvor nordsøbølger ruller ind mod land,
der, hvor skummet hvirvler over revlens sand,
|: der, hvor blæsten synger over strand og klit
stod engang min vugge, og det land er mit. :|
Stormens vilde toner var min vuggesang,
nordsøbølger brused' hele natten lang.
|: Havet blev min skæbne. Livet er så kort.
Stormen sang til afsked, da jeg rejste bort. :|
I de fjerne lande så jeg skønne ting,
men en drøm har fulgt mig, hvor jeg fór omkring.
|: Drømmen om den lille fjerne fiskerby
kaldte mig tilbage, drog mig hjem påny. :|
Hør, hvor nordsøbølger ruller ind mod land,
hør, hvor skummet hvirvler over revlens sand.
|: Her, hvor blæsten synger over strand og sø
vil jeg altid leve, og her vil jeg dø. :|
***
English (© R. F. Hahn, October 22, 2006):
1. Where the North Sea's waves keep washing onto sand,
Where the yellow flowers bloom on meadowland,
|: Where there're seagulls shrieking over storm surf's foam
There is my dear homeland, that's where I'm at home. :|
2. Ocean breakers' roaring was my lullaby,
And tall, grassy dikes all watched my youth go by,
|: Knew of all my longing, what excited me:
To fly around the world once, crossing land and sea. :|
3. Life has let me get to which I did aspire,
Gave me all the worldly things I did desire;
|: All that is now gone: adventure's urge and craze;
I've found fame and fortune, but my longing stays. :|
4. Longing for my lovely green and yellow marshy land
Where the North Sea's waves keep washing onto sand,
|: Where there're seagulls shrieking over storm surf's foam
There is my dear homeland, that's where I'm at home. :|
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