Melodie/Tune: Unbekannt/Unknown

MIDI: R. F. Hahn, ©2002

Song Excerpt: Hannes Wader

Plattdeutsche Lieder

Wat weenst du di de Ogen blank?
Segg an: wat deit di weh?
Is Vader krank? Is Moder krank?
Is Bruder ut to See?

Why are you weeping so bitterly?
Tell me! What could it be?
Your father’s ill? Your mother’s ill?
Your brother’s out to sea?

»Och, nee! mit Vader hett ’t keen Nood,
Un Moder spinnt dat Flass,
Doch weer ’t em bäter, weer he dood
Un ünner’t gröne Gras.

“Oh, no! My dad’s not ill in bed,
And Mum spins flax and is sound.
But he might as well be gone and dead
And lying in the ground.

Ja bäter leg’ he kold un still
Al ünner’n Liekensteen.
De Wind is luud, de See is wild,
– Un ik mutt ween’n un ween’n.«

Yes, he might as well be cold and still
And in the ground so deep.
The sea is wild, the wind is shrill—
And I must weep and weep.”

Un gung de See ok noch so kruus
Un noch so arg to Kehr:
Al menni’ Schipper keem to Hus,
De lang vergäten weer.

The sea may be all waves and foam
And may be wild and fierce,
Yet many a sailor has come back home
That had been forgotten for years.

So ween di nich de Ogen blank,
Un wisch di man de Traan’n;
’n junge Blood, ’n nieje Plank,
De ward ni’ ünnergahn.

So now stop weeping so bitterly,
And dry your face, my dear!
A young lad and a brand-new plank?
They won’t just disappear!

»Un leeg’ he in’e depe See,
Dat weer em wull to günn’n.
Daar höör he nix vun Angst un Weh
Un Schimp un Schann un Sünn. –

“If he were lying under the sea
He’d be in a better place,
Would hear of no fear and misery,
Of shame, sin and disgrace.—

Daar kem’n Soldaten, blink un blank.
De weern so smuck to sehn.
Daar gung’n Soldaten flink un frank.
Do fung ik an to ween’n,

Some soldiers came, dressed up all smart.
Were they a sight to see!
The soldiers left. He stole my heart,
And I wept bitterly.

Un ween mi noch de Ogen ut,
Un bün so hartsbedröövt,
He weer so jung! He weer so guud!
Ik harr em Allens löövt.

I’ll weep and weep until I’m blind.
I’m hurt, will always grieve!
He was so young! He was so kind!
He’d lie, and I’d believe.

He weer so jung! He weer so slank!
He sä, he kem’ so bald.
Nu höör ik al de Wäken lang,
Wa’ Loof un Blœder fallt.

He was so young and trim and swore
Shortly he’d be around.
And now I’ve heard for weeks or more
How leaves fall to the ground.

Un kummt he nu un nimmermehr,
Wo schall ik eenmaal hin?
So sack ik as dat Loof na Eer
Vœr Schimp un Schann un Sünn!«

What if he’ll never be around?
I’d leave. But to what place?
Like dead leaves I’d fall to the ground
For shame, sin and disgrace.”