Viktor Rydberg: Tomten

Santa
Midvinternattens cold weather is tough,
the stars sparkle and gleam.
All sleep in the secluded courtyard
deep in the midnight hour.
Moon hike its tacit ban,
snow white lights on pine and spruce,
snow white lights on the ceilings.
Only the land is awake.

It says so gray when ladgårdsdörr,
gray against the white run,
look, as many winters before,
up to Moon's disc,
looking towards the woods, where spruce and pine
draws on the farm his shadowy wall,
chews, but not the learning Bata,
of a strange conundrum.

For his hand through the beard and hair,
shakes head and bonnet ---
»No, the mystery is too difficult,
no, I guess not this "---
strikes, which he Plage, shortly
slika ask minds,
can be arranged and tweaking,
going to go about their job.

Navigate to visthus and redskapshus,
aware of all the locks ---
cows dream at the Moon Light
Summer dreams in the booths;
forgetful of the harness and whipped and empty
Podium in the house also has a dream:
krubban he leans over
filled with fragrant clover; ---

Navigate to the fence for lamb and sheep;
look, how they sleep in there;
go to the hens, which are cockerel
proud at their highest perch;
Karo in the dog bots straw feel good,
wake up and waves his tail small,
Karo's Santa know,
they are good friends.

Santa creeping up finally to see
husbondfolket the ladies,
long and well, he noticed that the
keep his diligence in glory;
children's combs his late on toes
approach to see the cute little,
no one shall be the oppression:
it is his greatest happiness.

So he has seen them, father and son,
clean through many leads
slumber as a child, but from where
coming to the well-hit Dutch?
Genus followed the race soon,
flourished, aging, went --- but where?
Riddler, which allows non -
guess, came as re!

Santa will walk to the barn loft:
where he live and drew
would be high on the höets fragrance,
close at swallow nest;
now well swallow habitation empty,
but the spring with leaves and flowers
she will probably back;
Following his näpna wife.

Then she always chirp about
event a journey of memory,
Nevertheless, nothing about the riddle, which
move the plot in mind.
Through a slot in the barn wall
lit moon on the old man beard,
stripe on the beard shiny,
Santa chews and thinking.

Quiet is the forest and Nejden all,
life out there is frozen,
only from the remote proper case
Slowly höres quite noise.
Santa is listening and, half in a dream;
believe themselves to hear tomorrow's power,
wonder, whither it be a danger,
wonder, was the source may be.

Midvinternattens cold weather is tough,
the stars sparkle and gleam.
All sleep in the secluded courtyard
good next morning hour.
Luna lowers its tacit ban,
snow white lights on pine and spruce,
snow white lights on the ceilings.
Only the land is awake.

The poem in Swedish