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The Breitmann Ballads

by Charles Godfrey Leland

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Germany

Breitmann Am Rhein - Cologne

HOW wunderschon 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.

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 efenin 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.

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 Farb’ sind mir nicht unbekannt[63]-
    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!

“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.

“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!

“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 Kuster vays,
May read vot Mr. Badeker
    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.[64]

De best Cologne in all Cologne
    I’ll shwear for cerdain sure,
Ish maket in de Julichsplatz
    Und dat at Numero Four.
Boot of dis Cologne in Julichsplatz
    Let dis pe understood,
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?

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.

Boot noding dinked der Breitmann
    Of schmutz or idle schein,
Vhen he sat in Abendammerung
    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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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 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.

All dis oopon dos glasses
    Vas blainly to pe seen;
One saw whate’er vas nodiced,
    Py de schone Englandrinn.
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!

Und gazin long on Natur,
    Und gazin long on Man,
Shdill all dings glite voruber,
    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 schone Englisch maiden
    Mit honey-colored hair,
Dat flows ash if a beinen 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.

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.

“Feinslieb, und will’st dou go mit me?
    Feinsllieb, 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.

“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.”

“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.

“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!

“Denn linger not to back dy drunk,
    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.

“Und do not killl de Kloster-volk,
    ‘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.

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