… aber bítte nicht von den Toten Hosen 
)
Liebe Sprachfreaks,
für einen Weihnachtsbrief suche ich ein schönes englisches Weihnachtsgedicht (so á la „Knecht Ruprecht“ im deutschen), also nicht den Text eines Weihnachtslieds, sondern wirklich ein Gedicht.
Ist für eine Kollegin, die auch ein solches ist … )
Danke + Gruß
Bernd
Weihnachtsgedichte/englisch/link
Hallo Bernd,
[…], sondern wirklich ein Gedicht.
Ist für eine Kollegin, die auch ein solches ist …
Weil Du das so nett formuliert hast, hab ich mich auf die google-Socken gemacht („christmas poetry“):
***
The Christmas Postman
Here comes the welcome Christmas postman
His cautious post-van skidding along the snow bound lane
Now up our fresh cleared path he strides
With Christmas greetings once again
It must be nice for those inside
With garlands hung on every side
With warmth and cheer and more beside
And Christmas cards from far and wide
The startled dogs leap at the window
Excited children scramble towards the festive door
The patient fir awaits its star
Abandoned trimmings swathe the floor
Try as I might I can’t recall
A Christmas time so sad withal
I’ve had no cards or telephone call
Forgotten by friends and family all
The postman yields his precious cargo
As do the children when mother joins them at the door
Concealing gifts from Santa Claus
And postmarks she’s been waiting for
It’s my own silly fault I guess
Not telling friends my new address
Christmas seems to be a mess
And now I’m faced with loneliness
Each envelope is opened carefully
Attentive faces waiting to hear the words inside
Some tell the wondrous Christmas tale
Each sent with love and more beside
The folks from where he lived before
Who had his post put through their door
The Christmas cards he waited for
And could not bear it any more
Each card conceals a special meaning
Apart from cribs and seasonal verses set in rhyme
From those who love us all year round
But just say so at Christmas time
They found his house, which was quite near
And brought his cards and Christmas cheer
From all the people he held dear
Who thought about him all the year
Take those words, store them in your memory
For dismal days when you’re feeling lost and on your own
Recall those words and those who sent them
And then you’ll know you’re not alone
Then postman thought, things aren’t so bad
I’ve had a card from mum and dad
And all my friends to make me glad
This Christmas is the best I’ve had
(Bill Allan)
***
The Spirit of Christmas
I have a list of people I know
All written in a book
And every year at Christmastime
I go and take a look
And that is when I realise
That those names are a part
Not of the book they’re written in
But of my very heart
For each name stands for someone
Who has crossed my path some time
And in that meeting they’ve become
A treasured friend of mine
And once you’ve met some people
The years can not erase
The memory of a pleasant word
Or a friendly face
So when I send a Christmas card
That is addressed to you
It’s because you’re on that list
Of folk I’m indebted to
And you are one of many folk who
In times past I’ve met
And happen to be one of those
I don’t want to forget
And whether I have known you for
Many years or few
In some way you have a part in
Shaping things I do
This, the spirit of Christmas, that
Forever and ever endures
May it leave it richest blessing
In the hearts of you and yours.
(Anon)
***
Santa’s New Idea
Said Santa Claus
One winter’s night,
‘I really think it’s only right
That gifts should have a little say
‘Bout where they’ll be on Christmas Day.’
So then and there
He called the toys
Intended for good girls and boys,
And when they’d settled down to hear,
He made his plan for them quite clear.
These were his words:
‘Soon now,’ he said,
‘You’ll all be speeding off with me
To being the Christmas joy and cheer
To little ones both far and near.
‘Here’s my idea,
It seems but fair
That you should each one have a share
In choosing homes where you will stay
On and after Christmas Day.
‘Now the next weeks
Before we go
Over the miles of glistening snow
Find out the tots that you like best
And think much nicer than the rest.’
The toys called out
‘Hurrah! Hurrah!
What fun to live always and play
With folks we choose – they’ll surely be
Selected very carefully.’
So, children dear,
When you do see
Your toys in socks or on a tree,
You’ll know in all the world ‘twas you
They wanted to be given to.
(Anon)
***
oder eher so?
The office christmas party
Didn’t we have
A lovely time
At the office Christmas party
Drunk as a skunk
On some 'orrible plonk
Donated by the Sales Director
Dancing up close
And eyeing up those
We’d fancied all the season
While the girls and the boys
Made a terrible noise
As the booze went down
Jennifer’s bloke
Had purchased some coke
And shoved it up his nostrils
He never thought
That the sustance he’d bought
Was half an ounce of curry powder
He took a snort
Which rapidly brought
A change to his complexion
So he quickly withdrew
To the gentlemen’s loo
And they flushed him down
Oliver Ross
The regional boss
Came in from engineering
Trying to look slick
With some sexy young chick
He’d picked up in the sales department
He didn’t know
The naughty bimbo
Was Kate the chairman’s daughter
'Til her daddy came back
Just to give him the sack
What a big put down
Two silly pratts
Came over from stats.
And both as kissed as armholes
Groping around
Every girl that they found
Looking for a Christmas garter
Adrian Bragg
Was dressed up in drag
Just for the occasion
But they got a suprise
When the tickled his thighs
And his skirt fell down
Rosemary Gray
The boss’s P.A.
Was dressed as Father Christmas
Slit up her skirt
And a transparent shirt
With sequins in the vital places
Rosie was caught
With Oliver Short
In the ladies rest room
Doing something obscene
On the vending machine
Hanging up-side-down
Timothy Groves
Discarded his clothes
And played his ukulele
Sat with a smile
On a cabinet file
Gently swinging to the music
Having a ball
With songs to recall
Those jolly days of Christmas
When Barbara Moore
Slammed the cabinet door
And the tears rolled down
(Bill Allen)
***
alles und noch mehr hier:
http://www.christmas-time.com/
Viele Grüße
Gitte
The night before christmas
(A visit from St. Nicholas)
von Clement C. Moore,
dem „Erfinder“ des amerikanischen Santa Claus.
Etwas lang, aber hier bekamen die Rentiere ihre Namen.
Gruß Fritz
´Twas the night before Christmas,
when all through the house,
Not a creature was stirring
not even a mouse.
The stockings were hung
by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicolas
soon would be there.
The children were nestled
all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugarplums
danced in their heads;
And Mama in her kerchief,
and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains
for a long winter´s nap,
When out on the lawn
there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed
to see what was the matter.
Away to the window
I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters
and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast
of the new-fallen snow
Gave a luster of midday
to objekts below;
When what to my wondering
eyes should appear
but a miniature sleigh
and eight tiny reindeer,
With a little old driver
so lively an quick,
I knew in a moment
it must be St. Nick!
More rapid than eagles
his coursers they came,
And he whistled and shouted
and called them by name:
„Now, Dasher! now, Dancer!
now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! on, Cupid!
on, Donder and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch!
to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away!
dash away, all!“
As dry leaves that before
the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle,
mount to the sky,
So up to the housetop
the coursers they flew,
With a sleigh full of toys -
and St. Nicholas too.
And then, in a twinkling,
I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing
of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head
and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas
came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur,
from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished
with ashes and soot;
A bundle of toys
he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler
just opening his pack.
His eyes, how they twinkled!
his dimples, how merry!
His cheeks were like roses,
his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth
was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard on his chin
was as white as the snow.
The stump of a pipe
he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke, it encircled
his head like a wreath.
He had a broad face
and a little round belly
That shook, when he laughed,
like a bowl full of jelly.
he was chubby and plump,
a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him,
in spite of myself.
A wink of his eye
and a twist of his head
Soon gave me to know
I had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word,
but he went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings,
then turned with a jerk,
And laying a finger
aside of his nose,
And giving a nod,
up the chimney he rose.
He sprang to his sleigh,
to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew
like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim,
ere he drove out of sight,
„Happy Christmas to all,
and to all a good night!“
Die Nacht vor Weihnachten
von Clement C. Moore
übersetzt von FR
Es war die Nacht vor Weihnacht, als durch das ganze Hause, keine Lebewesen sich regte, nicht mal eine Maus. Die Strümpfe waren sorgfältig am Kamin aufgehängt, in der Hoffnung, dass St. Nikolaus bald kommt.
Die Kinder waren gemütlich ins Bett gekuschelt, während Träume von Weihnachtsgutsle ihn ihren Köpfen tanzen, und Mama mit ihrer Nachthaube und ich mit der Schlafmütze hatten grade unser Sorge/Gedanken abgelegt für einen langen Winterschlaf, als draußen auf dem Rasen sich so ein lautes Geklapper, dass ich aus dem Bett sprang, um zu sehen, was los ist. Rüber zum Fenster, sauste ich wie ein Blitz, schob das Schiebefenster zur Seite und stieß die Fensterläden auf. Der Mond auf dem Leintuch von frisch gefallenem Schnee verlieh allen Dingen da unter eine hellen Glanz.
Als plötzlich vor meinen erstaunten Augen nichts anderes als ein kleiner Schlitten auftauchte und acht niedliche Rentiere, mit einem kleinen, alten Fahrer so lebhaft und geschwind. Im selben Moment wusste ich, das muss St. Nick sein.
Schneller als Adler kamen seine Renner, und er pfiff und schrie und rief sie mit Namen: "Jetzt, Flitzer! jetzt, Tänzer! jetzt, Trippler und Füchsle! Auf, Komet! auf Cupido! auf, Donner! auf, Blitz! Rauf aufs Vordach auf die Spitze der Wand, Jetzt stürmt weg, stürmt davon, stürmt los, alle zusammen. Wie trockene Blätter, die von dem wilden Sturm wegfliegen, stiegen sie in den Himmel empor, wenn sie auf ein Hindernis trafen, so flogen die Renner empor zum Hausdach mit dem Schlitten voll Spielzeug - und natürlich mit St. Nikolaus. Und dann in einem Augenblick hörte ich auf dem Dach das Tänzeln und scharren jedes einzelnen Hufes.
Als ich meinen Kopf zurückzog und mich umdrehte, kam Nikolaus mit einem Plumps den Kamin runter.
Er war ganz von Kopf bis Fuß mit Pelz bekleidet und seine Kleider waren beschmutzt mit Asche und Ruß. Einen Sach voll Geschenken trug er über seinem Rücken. Er sah aus wie ein Händler, der sein Bündel öffnete. Seine Augen, wie sie funkelten, und die Grübchen, wie spaßig! Seine Wangen leuchteten wie Rosen, seine Nase wie ein Kirsche. Sein drolliger kleiner Mund glich einem emporgezogenen Bogen, und der Bart auf seinen Backen war weiß wie Schnee. Der Stummel einer Pfeife, hielt er fest im Mund, und deren Rauch umgab seinen Kopf wie ein Kranz. Er hatte ein breites Gesicht und einen kleinen runden Bauch, der, wenn er lachte, wie eine Schale voll Gelee wabbelte. Er war rundlich und mollig, ein richtiger lustiger alter Elfe. Und ich lachte, als ich ihn sah, ohne auf mich selbst zu achten.
Ein Augenzwinkern und ein Kopfschütteln signalisierten mir, dass ich nichts zu befürchten hätte. Er sagte kein Wort, sondern machte sich direkt an sein Werk und füllte alle Socken und mit einem Ruck drehte er sich um, legte einen Finger an die Nase und mit einem Kopfnicken stieg er den Kamin hoch. Er sprang in seinen Schlitten, pfiff seiner Truppe und sie flogen zusammen weg. Doch ich hörte ihn noch ausrufen, ehe er außer Sicht war: „Frohe Weihnachten euch allen und allen eine Gute Nacht!“
…