Goethe: “A Lay of Christmas”

Excerpt, “A Book of Ballads from the German.” Translated by Percy Boyd, Esq. 1848.

A LAY OF CHRISTMAS

We cheerfully sing, and inscribe our glad lay,
To the Lord of the Castle here seated’
Whose grandson espoused a fair lady this day,
And the bridal guests sumptuously feted.

In the late holy wars he won honour and fame,
By splendid achievements ablazon’d his name,
Yet behold, when adown from his charger he came,
To his mansion he found it as open as day –
His property vanish’d – his servants away.

There you stand, noble Count,
you are now in your home,

And more comfortless quarters
you scarcely could find;

Through the chambers neglected,
the breezes may roam,

And all through the casements loud
whistles the wind:

“What now can be done in this cold
autumn night,

No servant attending – your rooms
in sad plight;

But patiently wait the return
of daylight:

In the meantime, the moonbeams
will show you where best,

On some straw as a couch you
may lie down and rest.”

There, seeking repose, half asleep as he lay,
Something moves about under his bed;
Perhaps a starved rat may be rustling his way,
For a long time a stranger to bread:

When, lo! Issues forth a diminutive wight,
An elegant Fay in a circle of light,
Who, with action so graceful,
and speech most polite,

Thus addresses the Count,
as he, drowsily peeking,

Can scarcely be sure,
if he’s waking and sleeping.

“Our festive assemblies we held in this place,
When, your castle forsaking, to war you had gone,
And as we all deem’d that this yet was the case,
We thought that our revels we still might hold on:
So we plead now for pardon, and hope you’ll agree,
To our giving a fete in good humour and glee,
And feasting a bride of the highest degree!”

The Count, through his dream, as he lay at his ease,
Says, “T’is at your service whenever you please.”
In an instant, three horsemen, who rode on before,
From under the bed leave their station,
Next follow a singing and musical choir,
Comic elves of this miniature nation.

While coaches and chariots came rolling along,
Till the eye and the ear were confused with the throng.
As it seem’d as a Queen to the castle had gone,
At last came a splendid gilt carriage,
With the bride, and her suite, to the marriage.

Alighting, they enter with rapid galope,
And around their saloon take their places,
To waltzes and polkas they joyously hop,
With partners who dance like the Graces:
There they pipe and they fiddle, and tinkle and play,
They spin round in circles so noisy and gay,
And they rustle and bustle and praddle away,
That the Count, more bewilder’d than ever, now deems
The whole the effect of his feverish dreams.

Thus they clatter and chatter, and frolic in saal,
Amid benches and tables all a prancing;
Till the banqueting-rooms offers welcome to all,
And supper succeeds to the dancing.
The dainties so magic, are sliced so fine!
With roebuck and wild fowl, and fish from the Rhine,
While goblets go round of the costliest wine,
And the festive enjoyments continue so long,
That they vanish away at the last with a song.
But here let us sing of what later took place,
When the revelry ceased and the noise;
How the pageant, devised by the frolicsome race,
The Count now adopts and enjoys:
So the trumpet is heard with its musical strain,
A splendid procession moves over the plain,
With chariots and horsemen, a numberless train,
All cordially joining, so happy and gay,
To honour the nuptials we witness today.

When, your castle forsaking, to war you had gone,
And as we all deem’d that this yet was the case,
We thought that our revels we still might hold on:
So we plead now for pardon, and hope you’ll agree,
To our giving a fete in good humour and glee,
And feasting a bride of the highest degree!”

The Count, through his dream, as he lay at his ease,
Says, “T’is at your service whenever you please.”
In an instant, three horsemen, who rode on before,
From under the bed leave their station,
Next follow a singing and musical choir,
Comic elves of this miniature nation.

While coaches and chariots came rolling along,
Till the eye and the ear were confused with the throng.
As it seem’d as a Queen to the castle had gone,
At last came a splendid gilt carriage,
With the bride, and her suite, to the marriage.

Alighting, they enter with rapid galope,
And around their saloon take their places,
To waltzes and polkas they joyously hop,
With partners who dance like the Graces:
There they pipe and they fiddle, and tinkle and play,
They spin round in circles so noisy and gay,
And they rustle and bustle and praddle away,
That the Count, more bewilder’d than ever, now deems
The whole the effect of his feverish dreams.

Thus they clatter and chatter, and frolic in saal,
Amid benches and tables all a prancing;
Till the banqueting-rooms offers welcome to all,
And supper succeeds to the dancing.
The dainties so magic, are sliced so fine!

With roebuck and wild fowl, and fish from the Rhine,
While goblets go round of the costliest wine,
And the festive enjoyments continue so long,
That they vanish away at the last with a song.

But here let us sing of what later took place,
When the revelry ceased and the noise;
How the pageant, devised by the frolicsome race,
The Count now adopts and enjoys:
So the trumpet is heard with its musical strain,
A splendid procession moves over the plain,
With chariots and horsemen, a numberless train,
All cordially joining, so happy and gay,
To honour the nuptials we witness today.