Gaudeamus! Humorous Poems - LightNovelsOnl.com
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In the Black Whale at Ascalon A man drank day by day, Till, stiff as any broom-handle, Upon the floor he lay.
In the Black Whale at Ascalon The landlord said: 'I say, He's drinking of my date-juice wine Much more than he can pay!'
In the Black Whale at Ascalon The waiters brought the bill, In arrow-heads on six broad tiles To him who thus did swill.
In the Black Whale at Ascalon The guest cried out: 'O woe!
I spent in the Lamb at Nineveh My money long ago!'
In the Black Whale at Ascalon The clock struck half-past four When the Nubian porter he did pitch The stranger from the door.
In the Black Whale at Ascalon No prophet hath renown; And he who there would drink in peace Must pay the money down.
BY THE BORDER.
Ein Romer stand in finstrer Nacht Am deutschen Grenzwall Posten, Fern vom Castell war seine Wacht, Das Antlitz gegen Osten.
Barritum civere vel maximum. Qui clamor ipso fervore certaminum a tenui susurro exoriens paullatimque adolescens situ extollitur fluctuum cantibus illisorum.--Ammian. Marcellin. xvi. 12.
A Roman stood in midnight lost, For the German line selected; Far from the castle was his post, His glances east directed.
He heard a murmur and a fuss, And distant voices ringing-- No paean of Horatius; Right savage was the singing: 'Ha--haw--haw! we got ye safe at last, Got ye by the skirt, too--got ye firm and fast, You scamp, you!'
With a maiden of the Chatten race He oft in love had meddled, And sought her in a lonely place, Disguised as one who peddled.
Now came the vengeance--one, two, three!
Now o'er the wall they're climbing, Screeching like cats in agony, With hatchet rattle chiming.
'Ha--haw--haw! we got you safe at last, Got you by the skirt, too--got you firm and fast, You scamp, you!'
He drew his sword, he blew his horn, And like a warrior shook him; But vain were pluck and Roman scorn-- The savage Deutschers took him.
They tied him fast, and in a word Away with him went bounding, And when the cohort came, it heard Far through the pine-trees sounding: 'Ha--haw--haw I we've got him safe at last, Got him by the skirt, too--got him firm and fast, You scamp, you!'
In the holy grove, toward the east, Were all the Chatten foemen, To celebrate the Odin feast Of Jul, with blood of Roman.
He felt himself like roasted meat 'Twixt savage grinders going; Out sprang his blonde-haired darling sweet, And cried with tears hot flowing: Ha--haw--haw! I've got you safe at last, Got you by the skirt, too--got you firm and fast, You scamp, you!'
Then all the Chats were deeply moved To see her thus accost him, And said, 'Since they so well have loved, 'Twould be a shame to roast him, Here let them wed.' This ends the tale.
'Yes, wed at once before us; And all day long throughout the vale We'll sing as bridal chorus, "Ha--haw--haw! were got you safe at last, Got you by the skirt, too--got you firm and fast, You scamp, you!"'
HILDEBRAND AND HADUBRAND.
DAS HILDEBRANDLIED.
.... Hiltibraht enti Hathubrant.
Hildebrand und sein Sohn Hadubrand, Hadubrand, Ritten selbander in Wuth entbrannt, Wuth entbrannt, Gegen die Seestadt Venedig.
Hildebrand und sein Sohn Hadubrand, Hadubrand, Keiner die Seestadt Venedig fand, --nedig fand, Da schimpften die beiden unflathig.
Hildebrand and his son Hadubrand, Hadubrand, Rode off together with sword in hand, Sword in hand, All to make war upon Venice.
Hildebrand and his son Hadubrand, Hadubrand, Neither could find the Venetian land, 'Netian land, Dire were their curses and menace.
Hildebrand and his son Hadubrand, Hadubrand, Got drunk as lords in a jolly band, --jolly band-- All the while swearing and bawling; Hildebrand and his son Hadubrand, Hadubrand, Drunk till they neither could walk or stand, Walk or stand, Home on all fours they went crawling.
SONG OF THE TRAVELLING STUDENTS.
O liberales clerics Nu merchet rehte wi dem si Date: vobis dabitur Ir sult lan offen iwer tur Vagis et egentibus So gewinnet ihr das himelhus, Et in perenni gaudio Alsus also, alsus also!
Pfarrherr, du kuhler, offne dein' Thor, Fahrende Schuler stehen davor.
Fahrende Schuler, unstete Kind, Singer und Spieler, wirbliger Wind.
Parson Sir Prudence, open your gate!
Travelling students your welcome await!
Travelling scholar, whimsical child!
Singer and stroller, the wind-whirling wild.
Iron throats for drinking--bellies like fires, Gold souls unshrinking--which no one desires, Thin garments sporting--weather so raw, Ah--and our courting--on hay and in straw!
Parson, Sir Prudence, open your gate!
Travelling students your welcome await!
Suabia, Franconia have given us food, Sans ceremonie--an all eating brood; Fed us, rapacious, G.o.d keep them from harm!
Like the voracious and wild locust swarm, What we've o'erpowered--once fertile and fair, All is devoured--shorn barren and bare.
Parson Sir Prudence, open your gate!
Travelling students your welcome await!
Makest not thy oven free, miserly owl, We'll haul thee to Coventry straight by the cowl.
Pull off your breeches, the shoes from your feet, Hang them like fitches out here in the street; He who would own it and do us a hurt, He must atone it in stockings and s.h.i.+rt.
Parson Sir Prudence, open your tower!
Travelling students your bars will o'erpower!
Ho, ho, heiadihoh!
Avoy, avoy, alez avanz!
Alsus also, alsus alsus also!
Ho ho heiadihoh, hoh, ho, ho!
THE CLOISTER CELLAR MASTER'S SUMMER MORNING SONG.
Hu weh! mir ist des Tages bang!
Tret ich hinaus in den schweigenden Bergwald Den kaum das erste Fruhlicht erh.e.l.let, Wehe! noch lagert die Hitze von Gestern Ueber versengtetn Moos und Gestrauch.
