Weep, Father Berg Lyrics

Weep, Father Berg, and play

Thy pipe in sorrow tune

And reed attune

My heart none can allay

It brims with ale and dread

Blow, Father Berg

Mark this great hall so stark

Once full of maidens fair

Now empty, naught a lark

Flies through the air

Here Jergen Puckel bows no more with hat a-spark

Like a prince rare!

Here tables, benches none

Only doors without locks

Thy pipe's sad knocks

Where once were glass and fun

And brothers in a ring

Now, not a thing

Where once thou stood to left

And on thy horn did call

Now only broken windows and a chair bereft

Old and small

Here musicians vainly wait for pay in thrift

With no ball!

Where each plank once did quake

With stamping, noise, and glee

Now bare to see

The rotten boards do creak

And chimney sways and bends

Blow, dear friend

Where trumpets once did show

From windows in full sight

Now rags of curtains and of tapestries flow

Flutter day and night

And vainly horses, coaches, in the streets below

Catch the light!

When brothers are not kind

Thus games must end in woe

My back does show

A slap could be declined

When none is given first

Blow not in burst

None should drink more than fate

Allows him to consume

For in the corporal's tankard nose to sate

Ends in gloom

And never dance with another's lass, my mate

I've learned from doom!