"THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS" ~ (International Versions)

 Venezuelan Version ~ By Jayde Vernoy

T'was the night before Christmas

And all through Caracas

Every house was buzzing

Everyone making hallacas

No stockings were hung

But there were presents under the tree

Pan de jamon in the oven

Children singing happily

Papa turned on the television

And Chavez began a speech

For this was the fastest way

To put the children to sleep

And later, 'round midnight,

Papa flipped off the remote

For a very odd sound

Had caused him to take note

He looked out the window,

And ran for his gun

For the man climbing over his glass-shard covered wall,

Was a big one

He was all dressed in red,

Carrying a big sack

He looked like a Chavista

And Papa didn't need that

He ran for his gun,

Scared half to death

This man looked like a ladron

But with white hair on his head

Ho Ho, se rio

As he climbed back over the newly painted gate

Papa stood and stared at the window

As the hour was late

Then this man disappeared

But his voice boomed out loud,

Merry Christmas to all,

and Feliz Navidad!

Paraguayan Version 

Written by Bob Boston

  ~ Brendas Blog from Paraguay

Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the barrio

Not a person was calm, not even old Mario.

The stockings were hung by the kitchen with care,

In hopes that Papa Noel soon would be there.



The children were running around through the house,

Fireworks exploding, scaring even the mouse.

And Doña in her tank top, and I in my cap ,

Gave up on the idea of a long summers nap



When out on the cobblestone, there arose with a clatter,

I sprang from the hammock to see whats the matter.

Away to my rejas I flew like a flash,

With my windows open, smelly gunpowder made me gasp



The moon on the breast of the new-fallen dust

Gave the luster of grey to the objects at dusk.

When, what to my watering eyes should appear,

Through the dust, the gun smoke, and the sparklers veneer,

But a miniature sleigh, and eight exhausted reindeer.



With a little old driver, so lively and quick,

I knew in a moment it must be St Nick.

More rapid than car window washers they came,

He whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!



As fireworks lit with a candle they fly

when they met an obstacle, go to the sky.

So up to the flat top houses they flew,

the sleigh with few toys, as everyone knew



Cracking the tiles, I heard on my roof

the landing of rockets, and thrown sparklers too.

As I ducked flying objects, and was turning around,

down the kitchen extractor came St. Nick with a bound.



His eyes-how they twinkled! His nose red like a beet!

Fireworks and explosions, he´d braved to my street.

His droll little mouth was smiling at me,

At midnight, with a heat of one hundred and three.



He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a shout,

Having used up the fireworks, it was safe to go out.

But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,

“Feliz Navidad, and to all a good night”

Spanglish Version

'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the casa,

Not a creature was stirring -- Caramba! Que pasa?

Los niños were tucked away in their camas,

Some in long underwear, some in pijamas,

While hanging the stockings with mucho cuidado

In hopes that old Santa would feel obligado

To bring all children, both buenos and malos,

A nice batch of dulces and other regalos.

Outside in the yard there arose such a grito

That I jumped to my feet like a fightened cabrito.

I ran to the window and looked out afuera,

And who in the world do you think that it era?

Saint Nick in a sleigh and a big red sombrero

Came dashing along like a crazy bombero.

And pulling his sleigh instead of venados

Were eight little burros approaching volados.

I watched as they came and this quaint little hombre

Was shouting and whistling and calling by nombre:

"Ay Pancho, ay Pepe, ay Cuco, ay Beto,

Ay Chato, ay Chopo, Macuco, y Nieto!"

Then standing erect with his hands on his pecho

He flew to the top of our very own techo.

With his round little belly like a bowl of jalea,

He struggled to squeeze down our old chiminea,

Then huffing and puffing at last in our sala,

With soot smeared all over his red suit de gala,

He filled all the stockings with lovely regalos --

For none of the niños had been very malos.

Then chuckling aloud, seeming very contento,

He turned like a flash and was gone like the viento.

And I heard him exclaim, and this is verdad,

Merry Christmas to all, and Feliz Navidad!

Jim and Nita Lee (Dec. 1972)