I Gili Romaneskro - A Gipsy Ballad

Vhen der Herr Breitmann vas a yungling, he vas go bummin aroundt goot deal in de worldt, vestigatin human natur, roulant de vergne en vergne, ash de Fraentsch boet says: “goin from town to town;” seein beobles in gemixed sociedy, und learnin dose languages vitch ornamendt a drue moskopolite, or von whose kopf ish bemosst mit experience. Mong oder tongues, ash it would appeared, he shpoke fluendly, Red Welsh, Black Dootch, Kauder-Waelsch, Gaunersprache, und Shipsy; und dis latter languashe he pring so wide dat he write a pook of pallads in it,-von of vitch pallads I hafe intuce him mit moosh droples to telifer ofer to de worldt. De inclined reader vill, mit crate heavy-hood blace pefore himself de fexation und lapor I hafe hat in der Breitmann his absents, to ged dese Shipsy verses broperly gorrected; as de only shentleman in town who vas culpable of so doin, ish peen gonfined in de town-brison, pout some droples he hat for shdealin some hens; und pefore I couldt consoolt mit him, he vas rooned afay. Denn I fond an oldt vomans Shipsy, who vas do nodings boot peg, und so wider mit pout five or four oders more. Derfore, de errordoms moost pe excused py de enlightened pooplic, who are fomiliar mit dis peautiful languashe, vitch is now so shenerally fashionábel in laterary und shpordin circles.
- F. SCHWACKENHAMMER.

Schunava, ke baschno del a godla,
Schunava Paschomàskro.
Te del miro Dewel tumen
Dschavena Bachtallo.

Schunava opré to ruka
Chirikló ke gillela:
Kamovéla but dives,
Eh’me pale kamaveva.

Apo je wa’wer divesseste
Schunava pro gilaviben,
M’akana me avava,
Pro marzos, pro kuriben.

So korava kuribente,
So korava apre dróm;
Me kanáv miri romni,
So kamela la lákero rom.

Dranslation.

I hear de gock a growin!
I hear de musikant!
Gott gife dee a happy shourney
Vhen you go to a distand landt.

I hears oopon de pranches
A pird mit merry shdrain,
Goot many tays moost fanish
Ere I coom to dis blace again.

Oopon some oder tay-times
I’ll hear dat song from dee;
Boot now I goes ash soldier
To war, o’er de rollin sea.

Und vot I shdeals in pattle,
Und vot on de road I shdeal,
I’ll pring all to my true lofe
Who lofes her lofer so well.