Easter Sunday - Ingeborg Bachmann

Easter Sunday – Ingeborg Bachmann

Last Easter Jim put on his blue
Frock cwoat, the vu’st time-vier new;
Wi’ yollow buttons all o’ brass,
That glitter’d in the sun lik’ glass;
An’ pok’d ‘ithin the button-hole
A tutty he’d a-begg’d or stole.

A span-new wes-co’t, too, he wore,
Wi’ yellow stripes all down avore;
An’ tied his breeches’ lags below
The knee, wi’ ribbon in a bow;
An’ drow’d his kitty-boots azide,
An’ put his laggens on, an’ tied
His shoes wi’ strings two vingers wide,
Because ‘twer Easter Sunday.

An’ after mornen church wer out
He come back hwome, an’ stroll’d about
All down the vields, an’ drough the leane,
Wi’ sister Kit an’ cousin Jeane,
A-turnen proudly to their view
His yollow breast an’ back o’ blue.

The lambs did play, the grounds wer green,
The trees did bud, the Sun did sheen;
The lark did zing below the sky,
An’ roads wer all a-blown so dry,
As if the summer wer begun;
An’ he had sich a bit o’ fun!
He meade the maidens squeal an’ run,
Because ‘twer Easter Sunday.

∼ Ingeborg Bachmann

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