Category Archives: Revolutionary Poetry and Writing

Ein Hoch Zu Willy Tell — Happy Swiss Independence Day (a Video)

Warm up your yodeling chords, break out your Alphen Horns and Swiss Cow Bells, and gather round while I (loosely) translate a funny poem I heard a long time ago, while serving as a missionary for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in the Zurich, Switzerland mission.
The poem deals with, of course, the story of Wilhelm Tell, the famous patriot who found against the Habsburg (Austrian) empire and their evil representative, Gessler. I don’t know who the poem is by — having lost my copy of a copy of a cassette tape decades ago — but the funniest part of the poem, as I remember it, goes like this:

Sein Sohn rief
“Komm schiess
mir doch ein Apfel von die Birne!”

Der Pfeil traff toedlich …
einen Wurm,
der in den Apfel wohnte.

Erst still,
dann brach ein Sturm des Jubels los!
“Ein HOCH zu Dir, Willy Tell!
Jetzt geh’n wir ein trinken, gel?!?!!”

Roughly translated:

His son called
“Come on! Shoot
the apple from my head.”

The arrow was deadly …
to a worm
that lived in the apple.

At first, it was quiet,
then broke forth a storm of jubilation!
“Three cheers for Willy Tell!
What do you think!?!?
Three cheers! Now let’s go get a drink!”

What strange twist of fate reminded me of this poem? Well, first, it’s Swiss Independence Day (More Cowbell!) Second, as I was peeling and slicing my free freestone peaches (refer to my other videos and articles about the peaches and what I’ve learned here on NaturesGuy.com, and then this fruity article, and then this article on experiential writing on IdeaMarketers.com (since it has to do with writing and creativity), I discovered small worms in the center of the peaches. Yes, I cut them out. (At least I hope I did!) But that’s what reminded me of the phrase “der Pfeil traff toedlich/einen Wurm, der in den Apfel wohnte.”

Hopp Schwyz!

You Might Not Remember, But I Was There — ImproVerse Free Verse Birthday Letter

My first born son -- I was there-- July 82
Good morning, my first born.
I know it’s early,
just like it was years ago,
but I wanted to let you know that I am here.
Just like I was there then.

Your mother had worked so hard,
and it was painful,
and she was exhausted.
So she smiled tenderly at you,
said “Hello, little one!”,
and held you awhile.

Then she handed you to me,
and she drifted off to sleep,
to get much-needed rest.

How I loved you!
How glad I am that I had the chance
that few fathers have.
I got to hold you for a while,
right after you were born.
I was there.

That seems to be the way it was,
wasn’t it, for years?
I was there.
No Harry Chapin song
(Cat’s in the Cradle)
applied.

Because of the work I chose,
I was there
when you caught your first football
at six months old
in the Johnny Jump-up.

I was there for your first day of school,
and your first church talk,
and your first overnight camping trip.
And when you stole home with the go-ahead run
in the championship Kirkland National Little League game,
I was there as your third base coach.

I was there
for your soccer games,
and your rocket reports,
and your problems,
and your triumphs,
and your blessings,
and your first fish,
and your first dance,
and your first car,
and your Eagle Scout award,
(and all that led up to it!),
and your graduations,
and your first trip to college,
and on
and on
and on.
I was there,
always so proud of you.
I still am.

Now you’re a father yourself!
You’re far away.
And it may not seem like I am there,
but you are always in my thoughts
and my prayers.
Just as you’ve always been,
and always will be.

And I always want to be there,
if not with you,
then at least for you.
Happy birthday, Itty Bitty Kristian!
I love you.
Love, Dad.