Good King Wenceslas

December 21, 2013 at 8:25 pm Leave a comment

Written by Alice Peebles, illustrated by Peter Dennis, read by Sheila Hancock



Neale’s “Good King Wenceslas” (1853)

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, tho’ 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,
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 shall see him dine, when we bear them 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, good my 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.

Spanish Translation

EL BUEN REY WENCESLAO
El buen rey Wenceslao miraba
en la fiesta de Stephen.
La nieve se extendía alrededor
intensa, frágil y uniforme.
Aquella noche la luna brillaba,
aunque cruel era la helada.
Cuando divisó un pobre,
buscando combustible de invierno.

“Ven aquí, paje, ponte a mi lado,
Dime si sabes
¿Quién es ese campesino?
¿Dónde está su casa?”
“Señor, vive a una legua de aquí,
al pie de la montaña,
al lado del cercado del bosque,
por la fuente de Santa Inés.”

“Tráeme carne, tráeme vino,
y tráeme leña de pino,
tú y yo lo veremos cenar
cuando llevemos todo para allá”
Paje y monarca se fueron,
se fueron ellos juntos.
Por el clamor del feroz viento
Y el desagradable tiempo.

“Señor, la noche ya se oscurece,
y el viento sopla más fuerte,
Falla mi corazón, no sé cómo,
pero no puedo seguir caminando.”
“Marca mis pisadas, buen paje mío,
písalas con valentía.
Ya verás que la rabia del invierno
te hiela la sangre menos fría.”

En las huellas de su amo pisaba,
donde estaba la nieve aplastada,
El calor se notaba en la tierra
por donde el santo había pasado.
Por lo tanto, cristianos, contar que –
poseyendo linaje o riquezas –
los que ahora bendecís a los pobres,
vosotros mismos sereís bendecidos

Entry filed under: .carol, .es, .story, .video, Alice Peebles, Good King Wenceslas, _Christmas. Tags: , , , .

The Little Story Deck The Halls

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