Friday, December 23, 2016

Carpe Diem Seven Days Before Christmas 2016 #7 Twas The Night Before Christmas

Dear Haijin, visitors and travelers,

This is it the last episode of our special feature "Seven Days Before Christmas 2016". For this last episode I have chosen the easy way, just because I thought that after a whole year of creating CDHK I could do it once the easy way.
There are a lot of traditions around Christmas, but the most beautiful tradition is the American tradition to read the Twas The Night Before Christmas poem and so I thought maybe I can make a special episode of one of our other special features "Carpe Diem Distillation". Maybe you can remember that feature. The goal of CDHK Distillation is to create a haiku or tanka inspired on a given poem. So here it is that wonderful poem "Twas The Night Before Christmas" with a short introduction to the poem.

Clement Clarke Moore (1779 - 1863) wrote the poem Twas the night before Christmas also called “A Visit from St. Nicholas" in 1822. It is now the tradition in many American families to read the poem every Christmas Eve.

The poem 'Twas the night before Christmas' has redefined our image of Christmas and Santa Claus. Prior to the creation of the story of 'Twas the night before Christmas' St. Nicholas, the patron saint of children, had never been associated with a sleigh or reindeers!

Clement Clarke Moore (1779 - 1863)

Clement Moore, the author of the poem Twas the night before Christmas, was a reticent man and it is believed that a family friend, Miss H. Butler, sent a copy of the poem to the New York Sentinel who published the poem. The condition of publication was that the author of Twas the night before Christmas was to remain anonymous. The first publication date was 23rd December 1823 and it was an immediate success. It was not until 1844 that Clement Clarke Moore claimed ownership when the work was included in a book of his poetry.

Twas the Night before Christmas Poem

Make it Snow !

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 Nicholas soon would be there.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads.
And mamma 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 the 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 the lustre of mid-day to objects below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer.

With a little old driver, so lively and 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, Donner 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 house-top the coursers they flew,
With the 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 of 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 bowlful 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 went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his 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!"


A wonderful poem and a challenge to create a haiku or tanka distilled from this poem. Have fun!

Well ... it not a "real" distillation of the above poem, but I love to share a series of Christmas haiku which I once published on my own personal weblog:

preparing Christmas
decorating the Tree of Light
brings peace and joy

Christmas stockings
hanging above the fireplace
awaiting presents

at dinnertime
drinking eggnog, eating turkey
and Christmas pudding

a Child was born
in a cold winter night
Angels singing

peace to the world
while wars are being fought
tears of Christ

make it happen
enjoy the Holidays
Merry Christmas

© Chèvrefeuille

This episode is NOW OPEN for your submissions and will remain open until December 28th at noon (CET). Have fun! Enjoy the Holidays!

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