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Array
(
[sid] => 75337
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Holy Eve in the Austrian Alps
[time] => 2004-12-11 17:28:22
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => Holy Eve and Christmas Day  Holy Eve is shrouded in silent reverence; And awe profound till marksmen and hunters commence To perform the solemn traditional yearly rite Of shooting in the approaching Holy Night. With spike-nailed boots they scale the peaks and crests, Up craggy ranges where eagles build their nests,  Explosions crash and sharp reports resound, And echoes from hoary mountain chains rebound. But the town and hamlets stay quiet and silent until The midnight bells begin to ring and peal. Silence reigns in the homes - it is utterly still In every household and regional hamlet until The "Sign" is given at last - the first boom and crash When thundering salvos rocks and huge boulders lash. Then some people arise, dress warm, ready to leave, To witness the solemn shoot-in of Holy Eve, Goose pimples grow at so many a solemn report, That with thundering salvos welcome the birth of the Lord. Lone wandering maveriks without family Go out to listen contemplatively Stirred by the magic of the wondrous night With star a-twinkling promising and bright. But families, at the first report start out, To enact rites that put ill spirits to rout. All is besprinkled devoutly with holy water,- Tradition demands the family’s eldest daughter Be sprinkler in chief, but toddlers with naughty glee Besprinkle each other, giggling mischievously.. All well-bedecked rooms are blessed, every den and chamber, The basement, the stables, and up to the garret they clamber. They incense in every corner, cranny and niche, With litanies swelling louder as they beseech The Lord to protect, and keep ill spirits away Who, in this holiest of nights hold powerful sway.- For the eldest son, tradition has set aside The office of thurifer, and in solemn a stride He swings the censer, steadily kept aglow  In widening circles glistening beads on his brow,- The mother carries the deep holy water bowl Behind her, the father, a shovel with glowing coal. Fragrant fresh grains of incense are put onto it. While the fourth Advent candle a last time is lit. All blessed, and to the living room returned; They find some raisin dumpling lightly burnt. While pine and fir and incense fragrance lingers, And Rosary beads slip through tired fingers, A bell is heard tinkling faintly and then a rap And from prayer distracted, the mother gets quickly up And very slowly opens the living room door, (which had been securely bolted some days before) Then calls out : “The Christ Kind has been here!”  Oh mystery, wonder, thrill, delight and cheer! The lighted tree, the gifts and wonderful toys, And all of the things desired by girls and boys;- Close by the creche they press and gather round;- And Christmas carols to zither and wood flutes resound; The meal is served, - the traditional Christmas Eve meal, And sharing the gladness of jubilant children until A sleigh must be readied quickly in the big shed, For they ride on skies, by cart or sturdy toboggan sled, A-down the steep snowy slopes, - on skies, hurray,! Fun is a ride to mass on skies or sleigh!  Watch how the lighted trees on graveyards gleam and thrive! None is forgotten, - Love is awake - alive!; But lo! - the shooting stopped and the air is still,- Its midnight and the bells begin to peal und ring ding-dong, announcing the Saviors birth- Ding-dong, ding-dong -peace to men on earth!  [comments] => 2 [counter] => 173 [topic] => 23 [informant] => Elizabeth_Dandy [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 10 [ratings] => 2 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => FamilyPoems )
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