Auld Lang Syne: Tonight at Midnight

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Auld Lang Syne

 

 

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,

And never brought to mind?

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,

And auld lang syne!

 

For auld lang syne, my jo,

For auld lang syne.

We’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet,

For auld lang syne.

 

And surely ye’ll be your pint stowp!

And surely I’ll be mine!

And we’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet,

For auld lang syne.

 

For auld lang syne, my jo,

For auld lang syne.

We’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet,

For auld lang syne.

 

We twa hae run about the braes,

And pou’d the gowans fine;

But we’ve wander’d mony a weary fit,

Sin’ auld lang syne.

 

For auld lang syne, my jo,

For auld lang syne.

We’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet,

For auld lang syne.

 

We twa hae paidl’d in the burn,

Frae morning sun till dine;

But seas between us braid hae roar’d

Sin’ auld lang syne.

 

For auld lang syne, my jo,

For auld lang syne.

We’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet,

For auld lang syne.

 

And there’s a hand, my trusty fere!

And gie’s a hand o’ thine!

And we’ll tak a right gude-willie waught,

For auld lang syne.

 

For auld lang syne, my jo,

For auld lang syne.

We’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet,

For Auld Lang Syne.

 

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“Old Long Past” (For the Sake of Times Gone By)

 

 

And for old long past, my joy*,

For old long past,

We’ll take a cup of kindness yet,

For the sake of times gone by.

 

CHORUS:    Should old acquaintance be forgot,

And never brought to mind?

Should old acquaintance be forgot,

And days of old long past.

 

And surely you’ll pay for your 3-pint-vessel!

And surely I’ll pay for mine!

And we’ll take a cup of kindness yet,

For the sake of times gone by.

 

CHORUS

 

We two have run about the hillsides

And pulled wild daisies fine;

But we’ve wandered many a weary foot

Since old long past.

 

CHORUS

 

We two have paddled in the stream,

From morning sun till noon;

But seas between us broad have roared

Since old long past.

 

CHORUS

 

And here’s a hand, my trusty friend!

And give me a hand of yours!

And we’ll take a right good-will drink,

For the sake of times gone by.

 

CHORUS:    Should old acquaintance be forgot,

And never brought to mind?

Should old acquaintance be forgot,

And days of Old Long Past.

 

 

 

*joy — “joy” means sweetheart, but “dear” or “friend”

may also be sung

 

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Robert Burns (1759-1796) wrote his poem “Auld Lang Syne”

in 1788.  It is in Scots’ dialect which is not, strictly speaking,

a hybrid of Gaelic and English, since it is derived also from

other linguistic strains.

A variant is spoken in Northern Ireland, where it is known as

Ulster Scots.

“Auld Lang Syne” has become a New Year’s Eve favourite,

the words sung to a traditional folk melody at the stroke

of midnight and into the first minutes of January 1st.

 

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Dobrý král Václav & Svatý Štěpán

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Dobrý král Václav

 

 

Na Štěpána dobrý král

Václav z okna hledí,

všude kam se podívá,

závěje a ledy.

Svítil měsíc a byl mráz,

pálil jako divý,

a vtom spatří chudáka,

jak tam sbírá dříví.

 

 

“Hola, páže,” pravil král,

“podívej se honem.

Odkud je ten sedláček,

víš-li něco o něm?”

“Pane můj, ten sedláček

bydlí támhle kdesi

u studánky v chalupě

pod samými lesy.”

 

 

Přines maso, přines chléb

a pár polen k tomu,

zanesem to ještě dnes

sedláčkovi domů.”

A tak šli, král s pážetem,

a tak vyrazili,

i když venku vítr dul

a vyl ze vší síly.

 

 

“Pane můj, je hrozná tma

a je hrozná zima.

Sotva jdu, už nemůžu,

strach mě z toho jímá.”

“Vkládej nohy do mých stop

a pojď dál, můj hochu!

Za chvíli ti nebude

zima ani trochu.”

 

 

Vkládal nohy krok co krok

do stop po svém králi,

a kam vkročil svatý král,

tam i sněhy hřály.

Proto, věřte, křesťané,

boháči i páni,

ten, kdo cítí s chudými,

dojde požehnání.

 

 


Good King Wenceslas: English Carol, Czech Tale

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Good King Wenceslas

 

 

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

Gathering winter fuel.

 

 

“Hither, page, and stand by me,

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, Christians, All, be sure

– Wealth or rank possessing –

Ye who now will bless the poor

Shall yourselves find blessing !

 

 

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John Mason Neale wrote the lyrics for this English carol

in 1853.  He based them upon a translation of the story

“Sankt Wenceslaw und Podiwin”, written in

1847 by Czech nationalist poet, Václav Alois Svoboda.

The name Václav is, in fact, Wenceslas in its original Czech.

 

Wenceslas was real;  he lived from 907 to 935, was the first

generation of his family to be Christianized, and became

Duke of Bohemia.  Known for his piety and kindness, still he

came to a gory end at the hands of his brother Boleslaw (urged

on by their mother).

A cult of Wenceslas spread quickly after his death – later seen

as a martyrdom – and he became a prime example of what in

the High Middle Ages would be called rex justus – the righteous

king – a monarch whose power derives from moral goodness

not brute force.

He is the patron saint of The Czech Republic, where he is known

as Svatý Václav (Saint Wenceslas).

 

* The Czech version of the carol is featured above. *

 

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Cuetlaxóchitl / Flor de Noche Buena / Christmas Eve Flower / Poinsettia


Su Nombre es Jesús y Soy Su Niña / His Name is Jesus and I’m His Child : Zella Jackson Price

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Soy Su Niña

(canción evangélica de Zella Jackson Price, 1982)


Es posible que no sea lo mejor de todo

o tenga lo mejor de algo,

algunas veces me siento que soy

lo menos de todo.

Pero conozco a alguien que tiene todo

Y Él es mi Todo,

Y yo estoy feliz de

tan sólo saber que:

Soy Su Niña.

Su nombre es Jesús,

El Hijo Recto de Diós,

El Lirio del Valle y

La Estrella más Brillante de la Mañana.

Su nombre es Jesús,

y Él es mi Todo

– Ohhh sí –

y estoy feliz de

tan sólo saberlo:

¡ Soy Su Niña !

*

Traducción del inglés al español:   Lidia García Garay

Translation from English into Spanish:   Lidia García Garay

*

I’m His Child

(as sung by Zella Jackson Price, 1982)

I may not be the best of anything
Or have the best of anything,
Sometimes I feel like I’m the least of all.
But I know someone who has everything
And He is my Everything,
And I happy just to know that

I’m His Child !

His name is Jesus,

the Righteous Son of God, the
Lily of the Valley and the

Brightest Morning Star.
His name is Jesus, and
He’s my Everything

– Ohhh yes he is –
And I am happy just to know that

I’m His Child !

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Iesus Ahattonnia / Jesus, He is Born (The Huron Carol)

.

Iesus Ahattonnia

.

Ehstehn yayau deh tsaun we yisus ahattonnia
O na wateh wado:kwi nonnwa ‘ndasqua entai
ehnau sherskwa trivota nonnwa ‘ndi yaun rashata
Iesus Ahattonnia, Ahattonnia, Iesus Ahattonnia

.

Ayoki onki hm-ashe eran yayeh raunnaun
yauntaun kanntatya hm-deh ‘ndyaun sehnsatoa ronnyaun
Waria hnawakweh tond Yosehf sataunn haronnyaun
Iesus Ahattonnia, Ahattonnia, Iesus Ahattonnia

.

Asheh kaunnta horraskwa deh ha tirri gwames
Tishyaun ayau ha’ndeh ta aun hwa ashya a ha trreh
aundata:kwa Tishyaun yayaun yaun n-dehta
Iesus Ahattonnia, Ahattonnia, Iesus Ahattonnia

.

Dau yishyeh sta atyaun errdautau ‘ndi Yisus
avwa tateh dn-deh Tishyaun stanshi teya wennyau
aha yaunna torrehntehn yataun katsyaun skehnn
Iesus Ahattonnia, Ahattonnia, Iesus Ahattonnia

.

Eyeh kwata tehnaunnte aheh kwashyehn ayehn
kiyeh kwanaun aukwayaun dehtsaun we ‘ndeh adeh
tarrya diskwann aunkwe yishyehr eya ke naun sta
Iesus Ahattonnia, Ahattonnia, Iesus Ahattonnia.

 

.     .     .

 

“Jesus, He is Born”

.

Have courage, you who are human beings:

Jesus, he is born

The okie spirit who enslaved us has fled
Don’t listen to him for he corrupts the spirits of our thoughts

Jesus, he is born

The okie spirits who live in the sky are coming with a message
They’re coming to say, “Rejoice!
Mary has given birth. Rejoice!”

Jesus, he is born

Three men of great authority have left for the place of his birth
Tiscient, the star appearing over the horizon leads them there
That star will walk first on the path to guide them

Jesus, he is born

The star stopped not far from where Jesus was born
Having found the place it said,
“Come this way”

Jesus, he is born

As they entered and saw Jesus they praised his name
They oiled his scalp many times, anointing his head
with the oil of the sunflower

Jesus, he is born

They say, “Let us place his name in a position of honour
Let us act reverently towards him for he comes to show us Mercy

It is the will of the spirits that you love us, Jesus,
and we wish that we may be adopted into your family.”

Jesus, he is born.

 

.     .     .

English translation from Huron:  John Steckley

.

Editor’s note:

There is a famous version of The Huron Carol

in English (“T’was in the Moon of Wintertime…”) but its

lyrics were written by Jesse Edgar Middleton and are not

a translation of Brébeuf’s Huron original.

 

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The Huron Carol / Iesus Ahattonnia is the oldest

Canadian Christmas carol.  It dates from 1643, with

lyrics composed for the purpose of religious conversion,

in the Huron language (Wendat) by Father Jean de Brébeuf,

a Jesuit priest at Sainte-Marie aux-pays-des-Huron, the

French-Canadian Christian mission that was near what is

now Georgian Bay, Ontario.

Brébeuf was burned at the stake during the Beaver Wars, an

aggressive push for land expansion plus control of the fur trade

that involved the Dutch, English, French, and

the Iroquois Confederacy.

The Huron were casualties of this struggle, and dispersed to

Québec in the east and, eventually, southwest to Oklahoma.

In the 21st century the Huron/Wendat People are revitalizing their

language which, 50 years ago, was virtually extinct.

.     .     .     .     .