LL-L 'Literature' 2007.02.14 (03) [E/LS]

[Lowlands-L List]

L O W L A N D S - L - 14 February 2007 - Volume 03

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From: R. F. Hahn <sassisch at yahoo.com>
Subject: Literature

Folks,

Yesterday I translated a Low Saxon poem by Klaus Groth and appended it to my
posting under "Yiddish."

This morning I revised the translation and would like to run it by you for
review.

The Low Saxon sentence "Mät teebn bet de Glicksorn!" ("(You) must wait till
the windfall!") looks like Eastern Low Saxon and probably is.  It would be
something like "Mœt töben bet de Glücksaarn" in the west.  Does this mean
that Isaac speaks an Eastern Low Saxon dialect, or is it the closest Groth
can get to Low Saxon with a Yiddish accent?

Glücksaarn "lucky harvest" = 'bumper harvest', ''sudden fortune', 'windfall'

Anyway, comments and suggestions are welcome, also as far as my translation
is concerned.

The revision is below.

Thanks and regards,
Reinhard/Ron

***

KANEELJUD

Klaus Groth (1819-1899)

                         Our temple hath not left a stone
                         And Mockery sits on Salem's throne.

                              Byron, Hebrew Melodies

Luerlüttje Kaneeljud!
Wa süht he verdweer ut!
Hangt Band ut, hangt Trand ut,
Handelt allerallerhand Grandgut.

    Isak, is dat Schipp kam?
    Is min Säwel mitkam?
    Krieg'k en Wagen, krieg'k en Popp,
    Krieg'k min Hot mit Feddern op?

    »Kinner, noch nicht!
    Tokum Johr kumt't vellicht!
    Dat Woter weer dick worn,
    Mät teebn bet de Glicksorn!«

Luerlüttje Kaneeljud!
Wa süht he fidel ut!
So afscharn, so utfrarn,
Snackt jimmer, jimmer vun de Glücksaarn.

    Abraham, wo büst du?
    Vater Abram, sühst du?
    Truerbom vun Babylon,
    Wo's de weise Salomon?

***

CINNAMON JEW

Klaus Groth (1819-1899)
http://www.lowlands-l.net/groth/
(translated by R. F. Hahn, February 13, 2007)

                         Our temple hath not left a stone
                         And Mockery sits on Salem's throne.

                              Byron, Hebrew Melodies

Tiny, little Cinnamon Jew!
How funny looking he walks about
With those strings hanging out,
Knick-knack things hanging out,
Trading "luxury goods" on the tout!

    Isaac, is my ship here yet?
    And my sabre? It's in your bag I bet.
    Am I getting my wagon? And the doll for me?
    And that hat with feathers on top for Marie?

    "No, not yet, kids. Shoo! Let go of me!
    They'll all be here next year maybe.
    The water turned thick, the voyage a crawl.
    You must wait now till the windfall."

Tiny, little Cinnamon Jew!
How jolly he looks, so funny too,
So destitute and so frozen and all!
All the time that talk about some windfall!

    Abraham, where will I find thee?
    Father Abraham, oh, dost thou not see?
    O Mourning Tree of Babylon,
    Where is the wise man Solomon?
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