Christmas Poem

Weihnachtsgedicht

Rainer Maria Rilke (1875-1926)

Weihnachtsgedicht
Es gibt so wunderweisse Nächte, drin alle Dinge silber sind. Da schimmert mancher Stern so lind, als ob er fromme Hirten brächte zu einem neuen Jesuskind. Weit wie mit dichtem Demantstaube bestreut, erscheinen Flur und Flut, und in die Herzen, traumgemut, steigt ein kapellenloser Glaube, der leise seine Wunder tut.
Christmas Poem
Some nights there are so wondrous white that all is touched with silver hue, and many a great star gleams as bright as if it guided shepherds to a Jesus they may find anew. Strewn with a dust of diamonds lie field and flood, a broad expanse; and then in sweetly dreaming hearts an all unchapelled faith ascends, that lightly works its magic arts.

Translation: Copyright © Timothy Adès

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Advent

Advent

Rainer Maria Rilke (1875-1926)

Advent
Es treibt der Wind im Winterwalde die Flockenherde wie ein Hirt, und manche Tanne ahnt, wie balde sie fromm und lichterheilig wird, und lauscht hinaus. Den weißen Wegen streckt sie die Zweige hin - bereit, und wehrt dem Wind und wächst entgegen der einen Nacht der Herrlichkeit.
Advent
Winds drive the flakes in the wintry wood, herding them, as a shepherd would. Fir-trees can tell they soon will stand piously laced with holy light: alert and ready, they withstand the wind, and stretch and seek the white pathways, and swell their boughs toward that night, that single glorious night.

Translation: Copyright © Timothy Adès

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The quietest day of the year

(für Clara) Der stillste Tag im Jahr

Rainer Maria Rilke (1875-1926)

(für Clara) Der stillste Tag im Jahr
Weihnachten ist der stillste Tag im Jahr. Da hörst du alle Herzen gehn und schlagen wie Uhren, welche Abendstunden sagen. Weihnachten ist der stillste Tag im Jahr. Da werden alle Kinderaugen groß, als ob die Dinge wüchsen, die sie schauen und mütterlicher werden alle Frauen und alle Kinderaugen werden groß. Da mußt du draußen gehn im weiten Land willst du die Weihnacht sehn, die unversehrte, als ob dein Sinn der Städte nie begehrte, so mußt du draußen gehn im weiten Land. Dort dämmern große Himmel über dir, die auf entfernten, weißen Wäldern ruhn, die Wege wachsen unter deinen Schuhn, und große Himmel dämmern über dir. Und in den großen Himmeln steht ein Stern, ganz aufgeblüht zu selten großer Helle, die Fernen nähern sich wie eine Welle, und in den großen Himmeln steht ein Stern.
The quietest day of the year
Christmas, the quietest day of the year. Of every heart you can hear the pulse, like the evening hours that a timepiece tells: Christmas, the quietest day of the year. The children stare and their eyes are wide as if things grew by a power supernal, and all the mothers are more maternal: the children stare and their eyes are wide. You must go out in the countryside if you want to see Christmas unimpaired: as if for cities you never have cared, you must go out in the countryside. Great skies are twilit above your head, at peace over white and distant woods: the paths grow wider under your boots. Great skies are twilit above your head. And in the great skies there stands a star, with a rare great brightness it has risen. A wave comes in, it’s the far horizon, and in the great skies there stands a star.  

Translation: Copyright © Timothy Adès

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Categories
French

(From) Christmas Marching Song

Paul Claudel (1868-1955)

Translated by Timothy Adès

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Resting in Egypt

Le Repos En Egypte

Albert Samain (1858-1900)

Le Repos En Egypte
La nuit est bleue et chaude, et le calme infini… Roulé dans son manteau, le front sur une pierre, Joseph dort, le coeur pur, ayant fait sa prière; Et l’âne à ses côtés est comme un humble ami. Entre les pieds du Sphinx appuyée à demi, La Vierge, pâle et douce, a fermé la paupière; Et, dans l’ombre, une étrange et suave lumière Sort du petit Jésus dans ses bras endormi. Autour d’eux le désert s’ouvre mystérieux; Et tout est si tranquille à cette heure, en ces lieux Qu’on entendrait l’enfant respirer sous ses voiles. Nul souffle…La fumée immobile du feu, Mont ainsi qu’un long fil se perdre dans l’air bleu… Et le Sphinx éternel atteste les étoiles.
Resting in Egypt
The blue, hot night, the calm that has no end… Wrapped in his cloak, a stone beneath his head, Sleeps Joseph, pure in heart, his prayers said; The ass lies by him, like a humble friend. Between the Sphinx’s paws composed to rest, The Virgin, pale and sweet, has veiled her sight. The shadow glimmers with a strange, soft light: The infant Jesus sleeps upon her breast. The time and place are peaceful. Not a sound: Only the breathing of the babe. All round, The desert sands their mysteries unfold. The wind is still, the smoke climbs quietly, Like a long thread, to vanish in the sky; The timeless Sphinx bids all the stars behold.

Translation: Copyright © Timothy Adès

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Translation: Copyright © Timothy Adès

Épiphanie

Epiphany

José-Maria de Hérédia (1842-1905)

Epiphany
Donc, Balthazar, Melchior et Gaspar, les Rois Mages, Chargés de nefs d’argent, de vermeil et d’émaux Et suivis d’un très long cortège de chameaux, S’avancent, tels qu’ils sont dans les vieilles images. De l’Orient, lointain, ils portent leurs hommages Aux pieds du fils de Dieu, nés pour guérir les maux Que souffrent ici-bas l’homme et les animaux ; Un page noir soutient leurs robes à ramages. Sur le seuil de l’étable où veille saint Joseph, Ils ôtent humblement la couronne du chef Pour saluer l’Enfant qui rit et les admire. C’est ainsi qu’autrefois, sous Auguste César, Sont venus, présentant l’or, l’encens et la myrrhe, Les Rois Mages Gaspar, Melchior et Balthazar.
Épiphanie
Balthazar, Melchior, Gaspar, the Three Kings, Loaded with silver, scarlets and enamels, And followed by a long parade of camels, Draw near, as in great art’s imaginings. From eastern lands afar the trio brings Homage to God’s Son, born to heal all ills Endured on earth by men and animals… Intricate robes! held high by underlings. St Joseph keeps his vigil at the byre: They humbly doff their crowns, their heads are bare, They greet the laughing and admiring Child. So, when in times long past Augustus ruled, There came with myrrh and frankincense and gold Three Kings called Gaspar, Melchior, Balthazar.

Translation: Copyright © Timothy Adès

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Good King Wenceslas

Categories
Latin

Good King Wenceslas

J M Neale

Translated into Latin by Timothy Adès
Good King Wenceslas looked out On the feast of Stephen When the snow lay round about Deep and crisp and even Brightly shone the moon that night Though the frost was cruel When a poor man came in sight Gath'ring winter fuel "Hither, page, and stand by me If thou know'st it, telling If thou know'st it, telling Yonder peasant, who is he? Where and what his dwelling?" "Sire, he lives a good league hence Underneath the mountain Right against the forest fence By Saint Agnes' fountain." "Bring me flesh and bring me wine Bring me pine logs hither Thou and I will see him dine When we bear him thither." Page and monarch forth they went Forth they went together Through the rude wind's wild lament And the bitter weather "Sire, the night is darker now And the wind blows stronger Fails my heart, I know not how, I can go no longer." "Mark my footsteps, my good page Tread thou in them boldly Thou shalt find the winter's rage Freeze thy blood less coldly." In his master's steps he trod Where the snow lay dinted Heat was in the very sod Which the Saint had printed Therefore, Christian men, be sure Wealth or rank possessing Ye who now will bless the poor Shall yourselves find blessing.
Good King Wenceslas
Wenceslaë, quas nives     prospicis, rex pie, crusta plana stabiles     Stephani in die! lunae lux trans tenebras     monstrat indigentem per pruinas horridas     ligna colligentem.   “Adsta, puer, propius,     narrans forsan testis: unde venit, quae domus,     quis est hic agrestis?” “Tria procul milia     redit hinc sub montem, silvae saepis incola     Agnes iuxta fontem.”   “Fer mi carnem, vinum fer,     pineis cum lignis: hunc visemus, minister,     dapibus benignis.” rex et puer protinus     una properatis, duris in frigoribus     raucae tempestatis.   “Princeps, nox fit caecior,     aquilo bacchatur. nescio quam languet cor:     progredi non datur.” “Vade passibus meis     sanguine tepenti, trucis expers hiemis,     vi non algens venti.”   Calcat passus domini     per nives ingressi: caespites sunt calidi     sancto pede pressi. ergo, potens vel dives,     credas et salveris! benedicens pauperes     tu benediceris.

Translation: Copyright © Timothy Adès

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A Dream of Christmas

Emmanuel : Un Rêve de Noël

Charles-Marie Leconte de Lisle (1818-94)

Emmanuel : Un Rêve de Noël
…Par les noirs tourbillons de l’ombre j’ai gravi Les trois sphères du ciel où saint Paul fut ravi; Et, de là, regardant, au travers des nuées, Les cimes de la terre en bas diminuées, J’ai vu, par l’œil perçant de cette vision, L’empire d’Augustus et l’antique Sion; Et, dans l’immense nuit de ces temps, nuit épaisse Où s’ensevelissait toute l’humaine espèce Comme un agonisant qui hurle en son linceul, J’ai vu luire un rayon éblouissant, un seul! Et c’était, entre l’âne et le boeuf à leur crèche, Un enfant nouveau-né sur la paille fraîche: Chair neuve, âme sans tache, et, dans leur pureté, Étant comme un arôme et comme une clarté ! Le père à barbe grise et la Mère joyeuse Saluaient dans leur coeur cette aube radieuse, Ce matin d’innocence après la vieille nuit, Apaisant ce qui gronde et charmant ce qui nuit; Cette lumière à peine éclose et d’où ruisselle L’impérissable vie avec chaque étincelle! Et les bergers tendaient la tête pour mieux voir; Et j’ai soudainement ouï par le ciel noir, Tandis que les rumeurs d’en bas semblaient se taire, Une voix dont le son s’épandit sur la terre, Mais douce et calme, et qui disait: Emmanoël! Et l’espace et le temps chantaient: Noël! Noël!
A Dream of Christmas
Through swirling mists and eddying gloom I scaled three spheres of heaven whence St Paul was haled; across the clouds I saw in distant show Earth and her peaks diminished far below: with mystic piercing eye I did behold Augustus’ empery and Sion of old; and in that age’s vast obscurity, thick night, that shrouded all humanity like one in cerements who strains to scream, I saw a single shining, dazzling beam! There at the cattle-stall on fragrant hay by ox and ass a new-born infant lay: new flesh and spotless soul, whose purity seemed an aroma and a clarity! The joyful Mother and the father grey opened their hearts to greet this radiant day, innocent morning after age-long night, that charms the hurtful and assuages spite, the streaming light that never can be dark, imperishable life in every spark! And as the shepherds craned their necks to see, through the black sky I heard it suddenly, while all the murmurs from below were stilled: a sounding voice, by which the earth was filled! Gentle and calm, it said, Emmanuel; and Time and Space sang out: Nowell! Nowell!

Translation: Copyright © Timothy Adès

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Shepherd of Pearls

Zagalejo de Perlas

Lope de Vega (1562-1635)

Zagalejo de Perlas
Zagalejo de perlas, hijo del Alba, ¿dónde vais que hace frío tan de mañana? Como sois lucero del alma mía, al traer el día nacéis primero; pastor y cordero sin choza y lana, ¿dónde vais que hace frío tan de mañana? Perlas en los ojos, risa en la boca, las almas provoca a placer y enojos; cabellitos rojos, boca de grana, ¿dónde vais que hace frío tan de mañana? Que tenéis que hacer, pastorcito santo, madrugando tanto lo dais a entender; aunque vais a ver disfrazado el alma, ¿dónde vais que hace frío tan de mañana?
Shepherd of Pearls
Shepherd of pearls, child of the Dawn, where must you go this cold early morn? Light of my soul, star of the morn, you bring the day, you the first-born. Shepherd and sheep, shelterless, shorn, where must you go this cold early morn? Eyes full of pearls, lips full of joy, teaser of souls, soothe or annoy: Ruby-child, blow, rose-lip, your horn: where must you go this cold early morn? What must you do, saint of the sheep, honest and true, world still asleep? Cloak of the soul, lowliness worn, where must you go this cold early morn?

Translation: Copyright © Timothy Adès

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