 | The Breitmann Ballads |  |
220
Germany.
BREITMANN AM RHEIN—COLOGNE.
How wunderschön das Vaterland
In audumn-life abbears;
Vot rainpows gild ids vallies crand,
Ven seen troo vallin tears.
Und VON I'll creet mit sang und klang,
Und drown in goldnen wein;
Old Deutschland's cot her sohn again:
Hans Breitmann's on der Rhein.
In audumn-life abbears;
Vot rainpows gild ids vallies crand,
Ven seen troo vallin tears.
Und VON I'll creet mit sang und klang,
Und drown in goldnen wein;
Old Deutschland's cot her sohn again:
Hans Breitmann's on der Rhein.
Und doughts ish schwell dat mighdy heart,
Too awfool for make known;
Ven dey shunt him from de railroat car
Und tropped him in Cologne.
De holy towers of de dome
Cleam, twilicht-veiled, afar;
Und like some lonely bilgrim's pipe,
Dim shines de efenim star.
Too awfool for make known;
Ven dey shunt him from de railroat car
Und tropped him in Cologne.
De holy towers of de dome
Cleam, twilicht-veiled, afar;
Und like some lonely bilgrim's pipe,
Dim shines de efenim star.
Hans look to find his baggage check,
Und see dat all ish shdraighdts,
Denn toorn him to de city toors,
“Mein nadife land—wie gehts?”
Boot dat's vot all who read may run—
Fool blainly armies write;
Id's ofer all half Shermany,
Set down in Black and White.
Und see dat all ish shdraighdts,
Denn toorn him to de city toors,
“Mein nadife land—wie gehts?”
221
Fool blainly armies write;
Id's ofer all half Shermany,
Set down in Black and White.
Oh, Black and White! O Weiss and Schwarz!
Vot dings ish dis to see?
I vonder vot in future years
Your mission ish to pe?
Also in crate America
We had soosh colors too!
Die Färb' sind mir nicht unbekannt —
Id's shoost tout comme chez nous.
Vot dings ish dis to see?
I vonder vot in future years
Your mission ish to pe?
Also in crate America
We had soosh colors too!
Die Färb' sind mir nicht unbekannt —
Id's shoost tout comme chez nous.
Next tay to de Cathedral
He vent de dings to view,
Und found it shoost drei thaler cost
To see de sighds all troo.
“Id's tear,” said Hans; “boot go ahet,
I'fe cot de cash all right;
Boot id's queer dat's only Protestands
Vot mosdly see de sighdt!
He vent de dings to view,
Und found it shoost drei thaler cost
To see de sighds all troo.
“Id's tear,” said Hans; “boot go ahet,
I'fe cot de cash all right;
Boot id's queer dat's only Protestands
Vot mosdly see de sighdt!
“Im Mittelalter I hafe read
De shoorsh vas alvays sure—
An open bicdure gallerie,
Und book for all de poor.
Boot now de dings is so arrange
No poor volk can get in;
We Yankees und de Englisch are
Pout all ash shbends de tin.
De shoorsh vas alvays sure—
An open bicdure gallerie,
Und book for all de poor.
Boot now de dings is so arrange
No poor volk can get in;
We Yankees und de Englisch are
Pout all ash shbends de tin.
222
“I shmiles like Mephistopheles
In shoorshes ven I see
Poor Catholics vollerin round apout
To shdeal a sighdt—troo ME!
Dey peep und creep roundt chapel gates,
Boot soon kits trofe afay,
Dey gross demselfs, und make a brayer—
Boot den dey cannot bay!
In shoorshes ven I see
Poor Catholics vollerin round apout
To shdeal a sighdt—troo ME!
Dey peep und creep roundt chapel gates,
Boot soon kits trofe afay,
Dey gross demselfs, und make a brayer—
Boot den dey cannot bay!
“Dese Deutsche sacrisdans might learn
More goot in Italy,
Where beoples bays shoost half de brice,
For ten dimes more to see,
De volk vot dink I shbeak sefere
Apout dese Küster vays,
May read vot Mr. Bädeker
In his Belgine Hand Buch says.”
More goot in Italy,
Where beoples bays shoost half de brice,
For ten dimes more to see,
De volk vot dink I shbeak sefere
Apout dese Küster vays,
May read vot Mr. Bädeker
In his Belgine Hand Buch says.”
Und valkin oop und town de down
Von ding vas shdill de same:
Shoost ash of oldt he saw de shpread
Of Jean Farina's name.
He find it nort', he find it sout',
He find it eferyvhere;
Dere vas no house in all Cologne
Boot J. M. F. vas dere.
Von ding vas shdill de same:
Shoost ash of oldt he saw de shpread
Of Jean Farina's name.
He find it nort', he find it sout',
He find it eferyvhere;
Dere vas no house in all Cologne
Boot J. M. F. vas dere.
De best Cologne in all Cologne
I'll shwear for cerdain sure,
Ish maket in de Jülichsplatz
Und dat at Numero Four.
Boot of dis Cologne in Jülichsplatz
Let dis pe undershtood,
Dat some of id ish foorst-rate pad,
Vhile some is foorst-rate good.
I'll shwear for cerdain sure,
223
Und dat at Numero Four.
Boot of dis Cologne in Jülichsplatz
Let dis pe undershtood,
Dat some of id ish foorst-rate pad,
Vhile some is foorst-rate good.
Boot von ding drafellers moost opserve,
Dis treadful trut I dells,
Fast ash dis Farinaceous crowd
So vast hafe grown the schmells—
Dose awfool schmells in gass' und strass'
Vitch mofe crate Coleridge squalm:
If so he wrote, vot vouldt he write
Apout dem now, py tam?
Dis treadful trut I dells,
Fast ash dis Farinaceous crowd
So vast hafe grown the schmells—
Dose awfool schmells in gass' und strass'
Vitch mofe crate Coleridge squalm:
If so he wrote, vot vouldt he write
Apout dem now, py tam?
Of all de schmells I efer schmelt,
Py gutter, sink, or well,
At efery gorner of Cologne
Dere's von can peat dat schmell.
Vhen dere you go you'll find it so,
Don't dake de ding on troost;
De meanest skunk in Yankee land
Vould die dere of disgoost.
Py gutter, sink, or well,
At efery gorner of Cologne
Dere's von can peat dat schmell.
Vhen dere you go you'll find it so,
Don't dake de ding on troost;
De meanest skunk in Yankee land
Vould die dere of disgoost.
Boot noding dinked der Breitmann
Of schmutz or idle schein,
Vhen he sat in Abendämmerung
Und looket owd on der Rhein
Im goldnen gleam—vhile pealin far
Rang shlow, shveet kloster bells,
Und in de dim, plue peaudiful,
Rose distant Drachenfels.
Of schmutz or idle schein,
Vhen he sat in Abendämmerung
Und looket owd on der Rhein
Im goldnen gleam—vhile pealin far
Rang shlow, shveet kloster bells,
Und in de dim, plue peaudiful,
Rose distant Drachenfels.
224
Dey trinket lieb Liebfrauenmilch
So pure ash voman's trut';
De singed de songs of Shermany,
De songs of Breitmann's yout'.
De songs mit tears of vanished years,
Made peaudiful in wein.
Dus endet out de firster tay
Of Breitmann on der Rhein.
So pure ash voman's trut';
De singed de songs of Shermany,
De songs of Breitmann's yout'.
De songs mit tears of vanished years,
Made peaudiful in wein.
Dus endet out de firster tay
Of Breitmann on der Rhein.
“Ils etaient deux alors; ils sont mille aujourd'hui.
Sur ces temps primitifs le doux progrés a lui,
Et chacque jour le Rhin vers Cologne charrie
De nombreux Farinas, tous ‘seul,’ tous ‘Jean Marie.’”
—Le Maout, “Le Parfumeur,” cited by Eugene Rimmel in Le Livre des Parfums, Paris, 1870.
Sur ces temps primitifs le doux progrés a lui,
Et chacque jour le Rhin vers Cologne charrie
De nombreux Farinas, tous ‘seul,’ tous ‘Jean Marie.’”
—Le Maout, “Le Parfumeur,” cited by Eugene Rimmel in Le Livre des Parfums, Paris, 1870.
225
AM RHEIN.—No. II.
Im Kahn.
“Were diu werlt alle min,
Von deme mere unze an den Rin,
Des wolt ih mih darben,
Daz diu dame von Engellant
Lege an minen armen.”
—Carmina Burana.
Von deme mere unze an den Rin,
Des wolt ih mih darben,
Daz diu dame von Engellant
Lege an minen armen.”
—Carmina Burana.
Am Rhein! Acain am Rheine!
In boat oopon der Rhein!
De castle-bergs soft goldnen
Im Abendsonnenschein,
Mit lots of Rudesheimer,
Und saitenklang und sang,
Und laties singin lieder,
Ash ve go sailin 'long.
In boat oopon der Rhein!
De castle-bergs soft goldnen
Im Abendsonnenschein,
Mit lots of Rudesheimer,
Und saitenklang und sang,
Und laties singin lieder,
Ash ve go sailin 'long.
Und von fair Englisch dame
Vas dere, so wunderscheen;
Vene'er der Breitmann saw her,
Id made his heartsen pain.
Oh, dose long-tailed veilchen Augen,
Vitch voke soosh hopes und fears,
Deir shape vas nod like almonds,
Boot more like fallin tears.
Vas dere, so wunderscheen;
Vene'er der Breitmann saw her,
Id made his heartsen pain.
Oh, dose long-tailed veilchen Augen,
Vitch voke soosh hopes und fears,
Deir shape vas nod like almonds,
Boot more like fallin tears.
226
Und shpecdagles were o'er dem,
De glass of pince-nez kind,
In mercy to de beoples,
Less dey pe shdrucken blind.
Und gazin in dem glasses,
Reflected he pehold
De Rhine, mit all de shdeam-poats,
Und crags in Sonnengold.
De glass of pince-nez kind,
In mercy to de beoples,
Less dey pe shdrucken blind.
Und gazin in dem glasses,
Reflected he pehold
De Rhine, mit all de shdeam-poats,
Und crags in Sonnengold.
De signs upon de bier-haus;
De gals a-washin close;
De wein-garts on de moundain,
Like heafenly shdairs in rows:
De banks, basaltic-paven,
Like bee-hife cells to view;
A donkey shtandin on dem,
Likevise her lofer too.
De gals a-washin close;
De wein-garts on de moundain,
Like heafenly shdairs in rows:
De banks, basaltic-paven,
Like bee-hife cells to view;
A donkey shtandin on dem,
Likevise her lofer too.
All dis oopon dos glasses
Vas blainly to pe seen;
One saw whate'er vas nodiced,
Py de schöne Engländrinn.
Boot oh! de fery lofe-most
Of all dat lofe-most pe
Her own plue veilchen Augen—
Herself she couldt not see.
Vas blainly to pe seen;
One saw whate'er vas nodiced,
Py de schöne Engländrinn.
Boot oh! de fery lofe-most
Of all dat lofe-most pe
Her own plue veilchen Augen—
Herself she couldt not see.
So ist es in dis Leben;
For beaudy oft we spied,
Nor know de cratest peaudy
Ish in our soul inside.
Mein Gott! Vot himmlisch shplendor
Vas seen mitout an toubt,
If some crate bower supernal
Vas toorn oos insite out!
For beaudy oft we spied,
Nor know de cratest peaudy
Ish in our soul inside.
Mein Gott! Vot himmlisch shplendor
Vas seen mitout an toubt,
If some crate bower supernal
Vas toorn oos insite out!
227
Und gazin long on Natur,
Und gazin long on Man,
Shdill all dings glite vorüber,
Ash since de vorldt pegan:
Ash in dat laity's glasses,
Ve see dem bassin py;
Yet veel a soul beneat' dem,
A schweet eternal eye.
Und gazin long on Man,
Shdill all dings glite vorüber,
Ash since de vorldt pegan:
Ash in dat laity's glasses,
Ve see dem bassin py;
Yet veel a soul beneat' dem,
A schweet eternal eye.
O schöne Englisch maiden
Mit honey-colored hair,
Dat flows ash if a bienen korb
Had got oopsettet dere—
Und all de schweetness of your soul
Vas dripplin from your brain!
Oh shall I efer meet mit dir
Oopon dis eart' acain?
Mit honey-colored hair,
Dat flows ash if a bienen korb
Had got oopsettet dere—
Und all de schweetness of your soul
Vas dripplin from your brain!
Oh shall I efer meet mit dir
Oopon dis eart' acain?
O Englisch engel maiden!
O schveet betaubend dofe!
O Rheinwein und cigarren!
O luncheon, mixed mit lofe!
O Drachenfels und Nonnenwerth!
O Liebeslust und pein!
Dus ents de second chapterlet
Of Breitmann on der Rhein.
O schveet betaubend dofe!
O Rheinwein und cigarren!
O luncheon, mixed mit lofe!
O Drachenfels und Nonnenwerth!
O Liebeslust und pein!
Dus ents de second chapterlet
Of Breitmann on der Rhein.
228
AM RHEIN.—No. III.
NONNENWERTH.
(Alt Deutsch.)
He shtood peside de Kloster-place,
Oopon de Rheinisch shore,
Und dere he saw a lofely face,
He'd seen in treams pefore.
Oopon de Rheinisch shore,
Und dere he saw a lofely face,
He'd seen in treams pefore.
“Feinslieb, und will'st dou go mit me?
Feinslieb, make no delay;
For rocks ish shdeep und vales ish teep,
Und dings ish in de way.”
Feinslieb, make no delay;
For rocks ish shdeep und vales ish teep,
Und dings ish in de way.”
“Und oh! how can I go mit dir,
Or flyen out of land?
Der bischof holts me py de law,
Der Rheingraf by der hand.
Or flyen out of land?
Der bischof holts me py de law,
Der Rheingraf by der hand.
“Liebsherz, if dou could'st landwarts gehn,
I'd follow willingly;
Boot we are leafs, und shdrong's de shdem
Vitch pinds oos to de dree.”
I'd follow willingly;
Boot we are leafs, und shdrong's de shdem
Vitch pinds oos to de dree.”
“Der briest who helt dee py de law
Ish now a broken man;
Der Rheingraf who vouldt marry dee
Ish in der Kaisar's ban.
Ish now a broken man;
Der Rheingraf who vouldt marry dee
Ish in der Kaisar's ban.
229
“Und if de Kloster-beoples here
Vill shdop your goin to town,
Bei Gott! I'll burn von half of dem,
De oder half I'll trown!
Vill shdop your goin to town,
Bei Gott! I'll burn von half of dem,
De oder half I'll trown!
“Denn linger not to back dy drunk,
Boot led our lofe hafe vings;
Dere's milliners in fair Cologne,
Vill make you avery dings.”
Boot led our lofe hafe vings;
Dere's milliners in fair Cologne,
Vill make you avery dings.”
She toorn her eyes im mondenschein,
She schmile so heafenly:
“Dear lofe, so shendle und so goot!
I'll cut away mit dee.
She schmile so heafenly:
“Dear lofe, so shendle und so goot!
I'll cut away mit dee.
“Und do not kill de Kloster-volk,
'Tvouldt only bring tiscrace!
Dough if I had de abbess here,
Lort! how I'd slap her vace!”
'Tvouldt only bring tiscrace!
Dough if I had de abbess here,
Lort! how I'd slap her vace!”
De moonlighdt blayed oopon de drees,
It shined oopon de blain,
Two forms rode in de mitnight woods,
Und nefer coomed again.
It shined oopon de blain,
Two forms rode in de mitnight woods,
Und nefer coomed again.
230
MUNICH.
GAMBRINUS.
“Vot ish Art? Id ish somedings to drink, objectively forege-brought in de Beaudiful. Doubtest dou?—denn read, ash I hafe read, de Dyonisiacs of Nonnus, und learn dat de oopboorstin of infinite worlds into edernal Light und mad goldnen Lofeliness—yea of dein own soul—is typifide only py de Cup. Vot!—shdill skebdigal? Tell me denn, O dou of liddle fait, vere on eart ish de kunst obtain ids highest form if not in a Bierstadt? Ha! ha! I poke you dere!”
—Caupo Recauponatus, MS. by Fritz Schwackenhammer, olim canditatus theologiæ at Tübingen, shoost now lagerbierwirth in St. Louis. (Dec. 1869.) “Cerevisia bibunt hominesAnimalia ceteræ fontes.”
I.
In a field of goldnen parley
Goot King Gambrinus shlept,
Und treamin' pout de dursty volk,
Dey say he gried und vept.
“In all mine land of Nederland,
Dere crows no mead or wein,
Und wasser I couldt nefer get
Indo dis troat of mein.
Goot King Gambrinus shlept,
Und treamin' pout de dursty volk,
Dey say he gried und vept.
231
Dere crows no mead or wein,
Und wasser I couldt nefer get
Indo dis troat of mein.
“Now hear me on, ye headen gotts!
Und all de Christian too;
Der Bacchus und der Shoopider,
Und Màrie tressed in plue!
Und mighdy Thor, der donner gott,
Und any else dat be!
Der von as helps me in dis Noth,
His serfant I will pe.”
Und all de Christian too;
Der Bacchus und der Shoopider,
Und Màrie tressed in plue!
Und mighdy Thor, der donner gott,
Und any else dat be!
Der von as helps me in dis Noth,
His serfant I will pe.”
Und ash dis sinfull headen
All in de parley lay,
Dere coom in tream an angel
Who soft dese worts tid say:
“Stay oop, dou boor Gambrinus!
For efen all aroundt
Im parley vhere dou shleepest,
Some dings goot to trink ish found
All in de parley lay,
Dere coom in tream an angel
Who soft dese worts tid say:
“Stay oop, dou boor Gambrinus!
For efen all aroundt
Im parley vhere dou shleepest,
Some dings goot to trink ish found
“Im parley vhere dou shleepest
Dere hides a trink so clear,
Dat men will know zukunftig—
Ash porter—ale—or bier.”
Und denn in Nederlandisch
He put de könig troo,
Und gafe him—allwhile treaming—
De recipé to prew.
Dere hides a trink so clear,
Dat men will know zukunftig—
Ash porter—ale—or bier.”
Und denn in Nederlandisch
He put de könig troo,
Und gafe him—allwhile treaming—
De recipé to prew.
Oop rose der goot Gambrinus,
Und shook him in de sun:
“Go vay, ye sinfool headen gotts!
Mit you its out und done!
Ye'fe left me mit mine beoples
In error und in durst,
Till in our treadful tryness,
Ve tont know vitch is wurst.”
Und shook him in de sun:
232
Mit you its out und done!
Ye'fe left me mit mine beoples
In error und in durst,
Till in our treadful tryness,
Ve tont know vitch is wurst.”
Dat vas der goot Gambrinus
Oonto his palac 't vent,
Und loafers troo de Nederland
To all his lordts he sent.
“Leave Odin—or you lose your hets!”
De order vas sefere,
Yet tinged mit mildness, for he sent
De recipé for bier.
Oonto his palac 't vent,
Und loafers troo de Nederland
To all his lordts he sent.
“Leave Odin—or you lose your hets!”
De order vas sefere,
Yet tinged mit mildness, for he sent
De recipé for bier.
O den a merry sound vas heardt
Of bildin troo de land,
Und de kirchen und de braweries
Vent oop on efery hand;
For de masons dey vere hart at vork,
Und trinkin hart at dat,
Und some hat bricks mitin de hods,
Und some mitin deir hat.
Of bildin troo de land,
Und de kirchen und de braweries
Vent oop on efery hand;
For de masons dey vere hart at vork,
Und trinkin hart at dat,
Und some hat bricks mitin de hods,
Und some mitin deir hat.
Dey prew it in de Nederland,
Dey prew it on de Rhine;
Boot in de oldt Bavarian land,
Dey make it shdrong und fein.
Und he dat trinks in Munich,
Ash all goot vellers know,
Has got somedings to dink apout,
Vherefer he may go.
Dey prew it on de Rhine;
Boot in de oldt Bavarian land,
Dey make it shdrong und fein.
Und he dat trinks in Munich,
Ash all goot vellers know,
Has got somedings to dink apout,
Vherefer he may go.
233
II.
Hafe you heardt of Köng Gambrinus?
If you hafen't id vas gueer,
For he vas de first erfinder
Und de holy saint of bier.
Und his bortrait, mit a sceptre,
Fery peaudifool to see,
Hangs on afery lager-bier house,
In de land of Germanie.
If you hafen't id vas gueer,
For he vas de first erfinder
Und de holy saint of bier.
Und his bortrait, mit a sceptre,
Fery peaudifool to see,
Hangs on afery lager-bier house,
In de land of Germanie.
Efery vhere de whole world ofer,
Deutschers paint him on de sign,
As a broof dat dey are dealin
In de Bok und Lager line.
Crown und bier-mug, robe und ermine;
German signs of empire, dese,
Mit a long white beard a fallin'
Fery nearly to his knees.
Deutschers paint him on de sign,
As a broof dat dey are dealin
In de Bok und Lager line.
Crown und bier-mug, robe und ermine;
German signs of empire, dese,
Mit a long white beard a fallin'
Fery nearly to his knees.
Vonce dis bier-saint, pright und early,
Rose from bett und vent his vay,
To a dark mysderious gastle,
Vhere his lager-donjon lay.
Vhile de lark's first song vas ringin',
Und die roses shone in dew,
Den his soul vas shoost in order
To enshoy de early brew.
Rose from bett und vent his vay,
To a dark mysderious gastle,
Vhere his lager-donjon lay.
Vhile de lark's first song vas ringin',
Und die roses shone in dew,
Den his soul vas shoost in order
To enshoy de early brew.
Deeply, awfooly he schwilled it,
Till de vaults seem toornin round;
Und vhile tipsy—over tips he—
In he falls—und dere is trowned.
Yet vhile goorglin in de bier-fass,
Biously he gafe his soul:
“Gott verdammich! Donnerwetter!
Himmels sacrament-a-mol!”
Till de vaults seem toornin round;
Und vhile tipsy—over tips he—
In he falls—und dere is trowned.
234
Biously he gafe his soul:
“Gott verdammich! Donnerwetter!
Himmels sacrament-a-mol!”
Dere dey found der köng “departed,”
Not mitout his stir-up cup:
Moosh dey woonderd dat he berishet
Vhen he might hafe troonk it oop;
Or dat his long peard vitch floatet
Fool a yard on efery side,
Hadn't buoyed him from destrugdion:—
Dus der beer-dead monarch died.
Not mitout his stir-up cup:
Moosh dey woonderd dat he berishet
Vhen he might hafe troonk it oop;
Or dat his long peard vitch floatet
Fool a yard on efery side,
Hadn't buoyed him from destrugdion:—
Dus der beer-dead monarch died.
Bierstadt—Herr Schwackenhammer had evidently here in view, not only the American artist Bierstadt, but also the great city of Munich, specially famous for its manufacture of beer.
235
FRANKFORT-ON-THE-MAIN.
‘Sankt Martin war ein frommer Mann
Trank gerne Cerevisiam,
Und hatt er kein Pecuniam
So liess er seinen Tunicam.”
Trank gerne Cerevisiam,
Und hatt er kein Pecuniam
So liess er seinen Tunicam.”
(Comment by Herr Schwackenhammer.)
Vonce oopon a dimes in Frankfort der Herr Breitemann exsberiencet an interfal pedween de periot ven he hat gespent de last remiddance he hat become from home, und de arrifal of de succeedin wechsel, or bill of exghange—und, in blain derms, was hard up. Derefore he vent to dat goot relation who may pe foundt at den or fifdeen per cent. all de worlt ofer,—“mine Onkel,”—und poot his tress-goat oop de shpout for den florins. No sooner vas dis done, dan dere coomed an infitation from de English laity in whom he vas so moosh mit lofe in betaken, to geh mit her to a ball-barty. Awful bad vas he veel, und sot apout tree hours mitout sayin nodings, und denn wafin his hand, boorst out mit de vollowin version of dat peaudiful lied by Wilhelm Caspary:—
“Mein Frack ist im Pfand-haus.”
Mine tress-goat is shpouted, mine tress-goat aint hier,
Vhile you in your ball-ropes go splurgin, mein tear!
236
Boot my pest coat ish shpouted—mine poots are no go.
To hell mit mine Onkel—dat rasgally knafe!
Dis pledgin und pawnin has mate me his slafe!
Ven I dink of his sign-bost, den dree dimes I bawl,
Vhile mine plack pants hang lonely und dark on de wall.
Goot night to dee fine lofe—so lofely und rich,
Mein tress-goat ish shpouted—gon-fount efery stitch!
I dinks dat olt Satan troo all mine affairs,
Lofe, business, und fun, has peen sewin his tares.
My tress-goat ish shpouted—mine tress-goat aint here,
While you in your glorie go shinin, mein tear,
Und de luck of der teufel ish loose ofer all,
Vhile my black pants hang lonely und dark on de wall.
Dis four-goin song vas over-set by der Hans Breitmann from de German of Wilhelm Caspary, whose lyric vas a barody on a dranslation made indo Deutsch by Freiligrath from anoder boem py Sir Waldherr Scott, vitch Sir Waldherr vas kit de idée of from an oldt Scottish ballad vitch pegin mit de vorts—
“My hearts in de Hielands, mein hearts ish nae hier,Mein hearts in de Hielands, in wilden revier;
It hoonts for de shtag, und id hunts for de reh,
Mein hearts ist im Hochland wo immer ich geh.”
Dis is de original Scotch, as goot as I can mineself rememper it. Ven I vas dell der Herr Karl Blind pout dis intercommixture of perplexified dransitions
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Rattenkönig, or Rat-king, is a term applied in German to a droll mixture of incidents or details. It is derived from an extraordinary story of twelve rats, with one (their king) in the centre, which were found in a nest with their tails grown together, firmly as the ligament which connects the Siamese Twins.
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