CHRISTMAS EVE

Shepherds and shepherdesses,

Eden is open.

Do you not hear loud voices?

Jesus was born in Bethlehem.

The light from the sky goes down,

the Christ was already born,

and in a nest of straw

which little bird is.

The child is cold.

Oh noble ox,

cover with your breath

to the Boy King!

The songs and the flights

invade the extension,

and heavens are celebrating

and land… and heart.

Pure voices resonate

who sing in droves:

Hosanna in the high

to the Righteous One of Israel!

Shepherds, flock

come, come,

to see the announced

Flower of David! …
MARY MOTHER

The Virgin,

she smiles very beautifully.

The Rose bush has already sprouted,

that came down to earth

to perfume!

The Virgin Mary

sing lullabies now.

And sing to a star

who knew how to go down

to Bethlehem flying

like another shepherd.

Three Kings arrived;

it stops snowing.

The moon has seen him,

stop crying!

Your cry of snow

It set in the pine forest.

A thousand angels sing

crystal song

that a Carnation was born

of a soft rose bush.

JESUS, THE SWEET ONE, IS COMING…

Jesus, the sweet one, is coming…

The nights smell of rosemary...

Oh, what purity it has

the moon on the path!

Palaces, cathedrals,

they tend the light of their crystals

sleepless in the hard and cold shadow...

But the celestial melody

sounds out...

spring blue

that the snow, as it passes, softens, melts,

and leave behind eternal calm...

Lord of heaven, be born

this time in my soul!

HOW GRACIOUS AND PEACEFUL WAS THE BEAUTY OF THE VIRGIN

Brown by the sun of joy,

gazed by the light of promise,

garden where blood flies and weighs;

Immaculate You, Virgin Mary!

What stream has taught you harmony

of your simple step, what a surprise

of regretful flight and unharmed snow,

join your hands in the cold dawn?

What wind disturbs the moment and moves it?

The espoused dawn sings its joy,

The sea, ancient and good, calms its anguish.

The Virgin does not dare to look at him,

and the flight of his kneeling voice

sing to the Lord, who cries on the hay..

HOW THE LIGHT WAS...

Luis Rosales

The dream grew like a bird

from light to light erasing the gaze;

calm and carried by the angels,

the snow between the wings descended.

The sky stripped away its joy,

The child looks at the light, engrossed,

with the timid blood unleashed

From the heart, the Virgin smiled.

When the shepherds see their fortune,

the countless flight was already a canopy

on the head of the sleepy bull;

and their eyes lost their beauty,

feeling, between the true and the ineffable,

the light of the heart without movement.