StruwwelpeterHeinrich HoffmannDie Geschichte vom bösen Friederich /
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Der Friederich, der Friederich Das war ein arger Wüsterich Er fing die Fliegen in dem Haus Und riß ihnen die Flügel aus. Er schlug die Stühl' und Vögel tot, Die Katzen litten große Not. Und höre nur, wie bös er war: Er peitschte, ach, sein Gretchen gar! |
This Frederick! this Frederick! A naughty, wicked boy was he; He caught the flies, poor little things, And then tore off their tiny wings; He kill'd the birds, and broke the chairs, And throw the kitten down the stairs; And oh! far worse and worse, He whipp'd his good and gentle nurse! |
Am Wasser stand ein großer Hund, Trank Wasser dort mit seinem Mund. Da mit der Peitsch' herzu sich schlich Der bitterböse Friederich; Und schlug den Hund, der heulte sehr, Und trat und schlug ihn immer mehr. Da biß der Hund ihn in das Bein, Recht tief bis in das Blut hinein. Der bitterböse Friederich, Der schrie und weinte bitterlich. - Jedoch nach Hause lief der Hund Und trug die Peitsche in dem Mund. |
The trough was full, and faithful Tray Came out to drink one sultry day; He wagg'd his tail, and wet his lip, When cruel Fred snatch'd up a whip, And whipp'd poor Tray till he was sore, And kick'd and whipp'd him more and more; At this, good Tray grow very red, And growl'd and bit him till he bled; Then you should only have been by, To see how Fred did scream and cry! |
Ins Bett muß Friedrich nun hinein, Litt vielen Schmerz an seinem Bein; Und der Doktor sitzt dabei Und gibt ihm bitt're Arzenei.
Der Hund an Friedrichs Tischchen saß, |
So Frederick had to go to bed; His leg was very sore and red! The Doctor came and shook his head, And made a very great to-do, And gave him bitter physic too.
But good dog Tray is happy now; |
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