Frisian

Samples

Dialect: Old Frisian
Author: Anonymous
Source: Brokmer Letter (legal text, ca. 1300)
Translator: Reinhard F. Hahn

Jef hîr ên mon fliûth inna tsyureka, and tha fiund hine thêr on gêlath, al thet hi thenna bîre nêdwere dêth, thet lidse gresfelle.
Wirgath ma hine thêr on, sâ geldema hine mith fifta halwe jelde, and tha liudem hunder merca, and thet hûs thera liuda.
Nêl hi thenna naut of unga, alsâ tha fiund fon ungath bi hêlgena monna, and bi rêdgewena worde, sâ rêsze hi alsâ stôr, alsâ hi ther tha tsyureka bifêth.

If a man flees into a church, and the enemy pursues him there, all that he does in his defense shall stand uncompensated.
If one kills him therein, one must pay four and a half times the death price, and to the people a hundred marks, and one’s house goes to the people.
If he (i.e., the fugitive) will not come out when his enemy comes out upon being commanded so by holy men and judges, he must pay just as much as must he who attacked the church.

Dialect: Modern Westerlauwer Frisian
Author: Hanneke de Jong
Source: Praat mar ta! kursus Frysk praten (Afûk, 1995, p. 22)
Translator: Reinhard F. Hahn

Frouk stiet foar it rút. Se sjocht nei bûten. It begjint al wat skimerich te wurden. En no is it noch mar tweintich oer fjouweren. Se huveret; it wurdt ek al wer kâld. Oars skynt de sinne warm yn ’e keamer en hoecht de kachel noch net oan, wit net goed wat se moat. Al wennet se hjir al fjirtjin dagen, in soad kunde har se noch net. Gelokkich hat se in soad oan ’e buorlju, dat skeelt.

Frouk is standing in front of the window. She is looking outside. Dusk is beginning to fall. And it is just twenty past four now. She is shivering; it is already getting cold again. At other times, sunshine warms the room, and there is no need for the stove to be on. She is not quite sure what she is supposed to do. She has been living here for a fortnight already but does not have a lot of information. Fortunately she has a lot of neighbors; that makes a difference.

Dialect: Isle of Wangerooge (Germany, extinct 1950)
Author: (unknown)
Source: Recording of 1927 (http://www.geocities.com/Athens/Atrium/6641/)
Translator: Reinhard F. Hahn

Miin Oopel weer ’n fariinsmon, dee wunnet up Wangerooch. Dait weer nuu wail soo uum ’t Jeer achtiinhunnert threttiin, fjirtiin. Wii haiden Kriich mit de Fransoozen, un de Engelsen weeren up ’e Oostsee. Daa lai eenes Diis miin Oopel mit siin Schip in de Wiizder far Anker. Dee must hooch Watter auftaiw, un hii un siin Liuud haiden jam dilleliin too slaipen.

My granddad was a mariner, and he lived on Wangerooge. It must have been around the year eighteen hundred and thirteen, fourteen. We were at war with the French, and the English were on the Baltic Sea. One day my granddad was lying at anchor on the Weser River. He had to wait for the high tide, and he and his crew had lain down to sleep.

Dialect: Sater Frisian
Author: Vicar Schulte
Source: Anthem of Saterland (verses 1–3 of 8)
Translator: Reinhard F. Hahn

Seelter Läid

Ljude rakt et fuul un Lounde,
do ap Goddes Waareld stounde,
Man wät gungt deer wäil uur Seelter,
un uur t litje Seelterlound?

Seelter jeelde aal as Bruure,
achtje, hälpe een de Ure.
Träf’ se sik uk in de Framde,
hat et fluks: „Wie sunt ja früünd.“

Eene Sproake un aan Glowe
un dät trjoue Haat, do dwo,
dät wi uus am ljoosten säike
Sälskup bie dät aine Foulk.

Song of Saterland

Many nations, many countries
Here in God’s great world exist.
But what surpasses our Sater
And our tiny Saterland?

Saterlanders are like brothers
That respect and help each other.
Even when they meet abroad
They say right way, “We’re friends.”

One language and one faith
And the loyal heart, they cause
Us to favor and prefer
Company among our own.

Dialect: Insular North Frisian of Söl’/Sylt
Author: Thomas Hübbe
Source: Anthem of the Isle of Söl’/Sylt (verse 1 of 5)
Translator: Reinhard F. Hahn

Üüs Söl’ring Lön’

Üüs Söl’ring Lön’, dü best üüs helig;
Dü blefst üüs ain, dü best üüs Lek!
Din Wiis tö hual’en, sen wü welig;
Di Söl’ring Spraak auriit wü ek.
Wü bliiv me di ark Tir forbün’en,
Sa lung üs wü üp Warel’ sen.
Uk diar jaar Uuning bütlön’ fün’en,
Ja leng dach altert tö di hen.

Kumt Riin,
Kumt Senenskiin,
Kum junk of lekelk Tiren,
Tö Söl’ wü hual’
Aural;
Wü bliiv truu Söl’ring Liren

Our Homeland Sylt

Our homeland Sylt, to us you’re sacred;
You are our own; you are our joy!
To your old ways we cling with fervor;
We won’t forget our Sylter tongue.
We’ll be attached to you forever,
As long as we live on this earth;
And those that moved onto the mainland
Cannot help yearning for you there.

Come rain,
Come sunny days,
Come gloomy or cheerful times,
We cling to Sylt
Eternally,
Remaining faithful folks of Sylt!

Dialect: Insular North Frisian of Feer/Föhr
Author: Knütj Bruller Knütjen (Knud Broder Knudsen)
Source: Anthem of the Isle of Feer/Föhr
Translator: Reinhard F. Hahn

Leew Eilun Feer

Alhuar ik henkem üüb a eerd,
alhü uk het det lun:
at jaft dach man an ian eilun Feer,
det leit mi boowen uun.
An kaam ’k uk hen uun ’t lokelkst steed,
huar surgen goor ej wiar,
toocht ik dach äeder an uk leed
am di, min eilun Feer.

Dear Isle of Feer

Wherever I get to on this earth,
Whatever name a land may have,
There’s just a single Isle of Feer,
And in my mind it is the best.
If I got to the happiest place
Where worries don’t exist,
All day, from dusk to dawn,
I’d think of you, my Isle of Feer.

Dialect: Mainland North Frisian of Goesharde/Hoorning
Author: (Translated from Theodor Storm’s story)
Source: Theodor Storm, Häwelmann – auf friesisch (Jens Quedens Verlag, Amrum), Nordfriisk Instituut
Translator: Reinhard F. Hahn

„Jocht, uule moune, jocht!“ biilked Hääwelmoon, ors e moune waas närngs to schüns än da steere ok ai; ja weern al aal to beede gingen.