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Breitmann As An Uhlan: 2. Breitmann In A Balloon
by [?]

WHO vas efer hear soosh voonders,
Holy breest or virshin nonn?
As pefelled de Coptain Breitmann,
Vhen he hoont an air-ballon.
Der Bizzy[1] und der Dizzy,[2]
Mit lothairingen und Lothair,
Vas nodings to dis Deutscher,
Who vent kitin troo de air.

Id was in yar Nofember,
In eighdeen sefendee,
Der Breitmann vent a prowlin,
By monden light vent he.
In fillages deserted
He hear de Uhu moan;
For you alvays hear der Uhu[3]
Vhere der Uhu-lan ish gone.

Alone allonsed [4] der Uhlan,
Boot nodings could he find
Safe whitey clouds a drivin
In moonshine fore de wind.
Boot ash he see dese cloudins
He bemark dat von vas round,
Und inshtead of goin oopwarts
It kep risin towards de ground.

“Oh, vot ish dis a gomin?
Some planet, py de Lord!
Too boor to life in heafen,
Coom down on eart to poard;
Und pelow it schwing tree engels-
Two he-vons mit a wench.
Boot, mein Gott! vot sort of engels
Can dose pe, dalkin Fræntsch!

“I hafe read in Eckhartshausen
Dat oop in heafen – py tam!
De engels dalk in Sherman,
Und sing Mardin Luther’s psalm.
O nein – es sind kein engeln
Vot sail so smoofly on,
Das sind verfluchte Franzosen
In einem luft-ballon!”[5]

Hei! how der Breitman streak it
Ven vonce he kess de trut’!
He spurred id like de wild fire
Of hope in early yout’.
Troo de weingarts like der teufel
Vhen he shase a lawyer’s soul;
Down der moundain mit his lanze
Und his wafin banderol.

Down de moundain, o’er de valley,
Troo de village he ish gone;
Dog-barks die out pehind him,
Oders bark ash he come on.
Liddle heedet he deir bellin,
Liddle mind der Hahnen crow;
Liddle hear der Bauern yellin,
Clotter, clodder, on he go.

“Oh, vot ish hoontin foxen,
Und vot ish yäger pliss,
Und vot ish shasin bison
On de blains, to soosh ash dis?
I hafe dinked dat roonin rebels
Vas de best of eartly fun;
Boot id isn’t half so sholly
Ash to go a luft-ballon.”

Und ash id shdill vent onwart,
Shdill onwarts mit der wind,
Der coom a real madness
To catch id, o’er his mind.
Und had’st dou seen him vylin,
Dat wild onfuriate brick,
Dou’st hafe schworn dat Coptain Breitmann
Was pecome balloonatic.

In fain dey trow deir sand-bags,
In fain all dings let fall,
De ballon shdill kep a sinkin,
Und id vouldn’t rise at all.
Yet de wild wind trife id onwarts,
Onwarts shdill der Breitmann go,
Dill he cotch id py a rope-ent
Vot vas hangin town pelow.

Boot vhen it risen oopwarts,
Ash he cling to id, of corse,
Mit de lefter hand he holtet
To de pridle of his horse.
Der horse valk on his hind-legs:
Too schwer to rise vas he;
Mein Gott! vot fix for Breitmann
Of de Uhlan cavallrie!

So he go for seferal stunden
Petween himmel und eart pelow,
Boot der teufel und die engels
Couldn’t make der Hans let go.
Dill all at vonce an idée
Coom from his loocky shtar-
He led co his horse’s pridle
Und glimb oop indo de car.

Und vot you dinks he foundet
Vhen in dat air-ballon?
A nople Englisch vicomte,
Milord de Robinson;
Und mit him vas a laity,
Mit whom he’d rooned afay,
Whom he indroduce to Breitmann
Ash die Jungfer Salomé.