Suennermarten Again

I translate these songs with some difficulty, not having spoken or heard the language spoken since I was 9 years old. Sometimes I mull over a word and it comes to me hours later. At other times, it doesn't come to me until I say it out loud. Part of the problem is that I was never exposed to the written version of the language. I had tried unsuccessfully to find a dictionary, so I stopped off at Goethe Haus for help. They connected me with a dealer in rare German books in the Catskills, a Scot of all things. I am now anxiously awaiting delivery of the book.

I was chatting with the Goethe Haus people about Suennermarten and was amazed that they had never heard of it. I searched the Internet but the only referrences I found were in Frisia, although kaleidoscopejanis.de publishes some Suennermarten songs. I found some great articles in Wikipedia but regretfully for most people, they are all written in the Frisian language. Fortunately, I was able to comprehend them. I learned for example, that Frisian men, women and children consume an average of 2.5 kilos of tea per year. The article stated that this is 10 times as much tea as Germans consume. Interesting slip of the tongue, as Frisians are theoretically Germans.

There was an interesting article about Saterland. This is an area of solid land about 11 by 4 kilometers, that is completely surrounded by peat bogs. These bogs prevented contact with the surrounding Saxon population for 1000 years. Until the late 19th century, the only way to reach these people was by ship. These people settled this area after a great storm destroyed their homes by the North Sea. I wonder if that same storm caused Frisians to settle my area in Westphalia, bringing with them Suennermarten? My area was also heavily isolated by peat bogs, although not so extremely.

Suennermarten took place on November 11th every year. It was a time of feasting and marked the end of the agricultural year. Contracts with farm workers ended on that day and they were paid off. So  why did an agricultural festival bear the name of some weird Christian saint? Clearly the name was imposed on people when they were christianized (in most cases forcibly).  So what then would the old name of the festival have been? I believe that the festival that I celebrated as a child as Suennermarten was the old Yule festival. Yeah, I know that Yule supposedly takes place on December 25th.  Snorri Sturluson in his Heimskringla though states that Yule was moved up to December 25th by Olaf Trygvason, after he forcibly christianized the Norwegian population.  Snorri states that prior to that time, Yule was celebrated much earlier.  He said that Yule marked the end of the agricultural year when livestock that could not be kept alive through the Winter for lack of fodder were slaughtered. This was the occasion of great feasting and sounds very similar to aspects of the Suennermarten that I experienced.  Anyway, in the following are some more Suennermarten songs from the kaleidoscopejanis.de web site and my translations.

Kaleidoscopejanis states that in old times, the Kip Kap Koegel, the hollowed out Kuerbis with a lit candle inside, was carried by children from house to house as a lantern but that it has been replaced with a paper lantern on a pole with a candle inside. We partly followed the older custom but set the Kuerbis with a scary face carved into it with a lit candle out in the fields but walked from farm to farm with paper lanterns on poles.

Marie, Marie, mook op de Dör,
	Marie, Marie, mook op de Dör, Dor sünd'n paar arme Kinner vör, Giff jüm wat un loot jüm gahn, dat se ok noch wieder kaam, bet för Navers Döör, Navers Döör is ok nich wiet, Appel un Beern sünd ok al riep.

My translatiom into English: Marie, Marie, Open up the Door Marie, Marie, open up the door, There stand a pair of poor children, Give them something and let them go, so that they can come back again, head for the neighbors door, the neighbors door is not far the apples and berries are all ripe. Matten, Matten, Kägel, Matten, Matten, Kägel, mit din vergüldten Flägel allns, wat vergülden is, de Appel un de Beern, ok all good, ok all good, smitt se man in'n Strohhoot.  Hallo, hallo, mak open de Döör dar staht 'n paar arme Schäpers vör, Geev se wat un lat se gahn, se mööt 't noch wiet na Köln gahn, Köln is de wietste Wegg, Van all de leven Gäst, de Gäver is de best. Martin, Martin Kaegel with your gilded wings everything that is gilded, the apples and the berries, are all good, are all good, toss some into my strawhat. Hello, hello, open up the door there stand a pair of poor shepherds, give them something and let them go, so that they can come back again, they still want to go to far away Koeln. Koeln is the farthest way, of all the beloved guests, the giver is the best. Vaandag is Sünner Marten   Vaandag is Sünner Marten De Kalver sünd so darten De Kojen hebben Horens, De Klocken hebben Torens   De Tuteru-tut De Sang is ut. Un de de Sang wat wieder kann, De sing vördann.   Spieker, Bohr un Knieptang is dat nich 'n mojen Sang? Ja - a. Nee- e.   Schippke van Marieken Lett sin Seils strieken, sett 't sin Seils up de Topp. Geevt mi wat in 'd Rummelpott. 'N Öörtje of 'n Appel.   Loot 't mi nich to lange stohn, Ik mutt noch 'n Huuske wieder gohn.   My English translation:   Today is Saint Martin   Today is Saint Martin The calves are darting The cows have horns The clocks have tones   Tooteroo-toot The song is out And the song comes back again And we sing it again   Plane, drill and pliers Is that not a good song? Yeah – ah Nay – ay     Ships from Mariken Set your sails to striking Set your sails up to the top Put something in my rummelpot A piece of an apple   Don’t let me stand so long To another house I must be gone Vaandag is Sünner Marten Vaandag is Sünner Marten De Kalver sünd so darten De Kojen hebben Horens, De Klocken hebben Torens De Tuteru-tut De Sang is ut. Un de de Sang wat wieder kann, De sing vördann. Spieker, Bohr un Knieptang is dat nich 'n mojen Sang? Ja - a.  Nee- e. Schippke van Marieken Lett sin Seils strieken, sett 't sin Seils up de Topp. Geevt mi wat in 'd Rummelpott. 'N Öörtje of 'n Appel. Loot 't mi nich to lange stohn, Ik mutt noch 'n Huuske wieder gohn.