So we’ll go no more, no more So we’ll go no more, no more
So we’ll go no more a-roving So late into the night Though the heart be still as loving And the moon be still as bright For the sword outwears its sheath And the soul outwears the breast And the heart must pause to breathe And love itself have rest
Though the night was made for loving And the day returns too soon Yet we’ll go no more a-roving By the light of the moon By the light of the moon
For the sword outwears its sheath And the soul outwears the breast And love itself have rest Love have rest
Though the night was made for loving And the day returns too soon Yet we’ll go no more a-roving By the light of the moon
We’ll go no more a-roving We’ll go no more a-roving We’ll go no more a-roving By the light of the moon
Your greetings they’ll ignore. With their heads resting on their chests, They seek warmth from their breasts, None affords to lift a head to greet the guests.
Vision is limited, The road’s dark and slick. Your extended friendly hand is refused, Not because they are confused; They rather keep their hands where they are warmed. It is frightfully cold. Do not be alarmed.
Observe your breath, Leaving the warmth of your breast; Turns into a dark cloud Before it rests On the wall before your chest.
If your breath is this unkind, What is amiss; if Distant and near friends, Were to keep you out of mind?
My manly Messiah, Uncompromising man of faith! Winter is cowardly and cold, You keep the words warm, Sustain that stance bold.
Accept my greetings. Let me in. Your nightly guest: The pedestrian rock, The curse of creation, The uneven melody.
Allow this pest, a moment of rest. I am not from Rome or Africa. Allow the Africans the south, North, the Romans. Colorblind I am, Enough for both.
Let me in! Let my sorrow in! Be a good host, To your ever-present guest, Who shivers behind your door. Have mercy on the poor.
There is no hail. You may have heard a tale, There exists no death, Only chattering teeth and a short breath.
Tonight I intend to pay back The account for which I lack It is not too late It is not midnight There is no morning Don’t be fooled by the dawn’s false trap.
My frozen red ears Bespeak winter’s harsh slap. And your universal sun At the mercy of each breath, Rather than your coffin Brightens the hidden cave of death.
Dear friend, with wine, Illumine the sight; Night is day Day is night.
They’ll ignore your greeting Amid this depressing weather Doors are shut Heads on chests Hands hidden, Hopes are cruelly cut.
Trees are but Crystalline skeletons, The sky’s moved closer; The land is devoid of life, Dimmed are the sun and the moon Winter is rife.
(Mehdi Akhavan Saless, 1928-1990) (Translated from Persian by Iraj Bashiri )
Let the sky celebrate! Let it pour some rain to wash away the past years’ grief.
Let the fireworks speak announcing a New Year to break, displaying seasons of different flavours.
Oh New Year, can you restore our hopes and spill our fears?
I wonder.. What will you bring? Happiness, confusion, or sadness? Let the other years witness.. your joy, your pity, your cruelty, and your niceness.
So New Year, I have too many hopes in you. My wishes are infinite, what are you going to do? Don’t disappoint me, I suppose you already know. The hope fountain knows no chains, Don’t tell me it’s all in vain.. Tell me how I can refrain myself from dreaming in my dale.
If only there was a chance or even an opportunity in disguise, I wouldn’t cease proving and proving my worth all the time, I would use my ship to sail, And you will witness my success.. This is what I promise, And here comes the test.. Let me declare it in that feast..
So New Year, I have too many hopes in you. I hope you lead me safely to the shore. I hope you can be nice to me, just nice and nothing more. I hope you vanquish this tornado of sores.
I don’t ask the sun to be always shining. I don’t ask the day to be much longer. I don’t ask the guiding stars to be brighter. I don’t ask for more flowers or more powers. I don’t ask the sky to be clear from clouds, so no rain of misery and frustration to be found.
All I ask for is some peace around. All I ask for is some peace of mind.
So New Year, I have too many hopes in you. My wishes are infinite, what are you going to do? Don’t disappoint me, I suppose… you already know!
You were born with potential. You were born with goodness and trust. You were born with ideals and dreams. You were born with greatness. You were born with wings. You are not meant for crawling, so don’t. You have wings. Learn to use them and fly.
Founded by Dr Maulana Karenga in 1966, Kwanzaa runs from December 26 to January 1. It is inspired by the First Fruits Festivals celebrated by the Nguni peoples of KwaZulu-Natal, South Africa and Swaziland; as well as Juneteenth (June 19, Freedom Day) celebrating the abolition of slavery in Texas in 1865.
Kwanzaa (Swahili for first fruits) celebrates the 7 principles of African heritage (Nguzo Saba) : Umoja Unity, Kujichagulia Self-determination, Ujima Collective Work and Responsibility, Ujamaa Cooperative Economics, Nia Purpose, Kuumba Creativity, Imani Faith.
During the week-long celebration of Kwanzaa, seven candles are placed in the kinara (Swahili for candle holder) – 3 red on the left, 3 green on the right, and a single black candle in the center. The black candle is lit first, then each day it alternates between red and green, each candle representing the principle of the day.
Special symbols and decorations are used, certain clothing is worn, there is drumming, music is played, readings related to the day’s principle are discussed, and Kwanzaa foods and drinks are shared. After 53 years, Kwanzaa is now celebrated not only in the United States, but also in Canada, parts of Europe, Jamaica and Brazil.
To those who celebrate, I wish you a Joyous Kwanzaa!
The 12 days of Christmas runs from December 25 to January 5. January 6 is Epiphany, celebrating the coming of Magi (3 Kings Day). Epiphany Eve, January 5 is also known as Twelfth Night.
The 12 days of Christmas was originally a chant, with French origins. In 1780, it was published for the first time in England, in Mirth without Mischief. As part of game played on Twelfth Night, the poem was to be recited and if you made a mistake you had to pay a forfeit – give a treat, trinket or kiss.
On the first day of Christmas my dear love gave to me a partridge in a pear tree
On the second day of Christmas my dear love gave to me 2 turtle doves and a partridge in a pear tree
On the third day of Christmas my dear love gave to me 3 French hens......
On the fourth day of Christmas my dear love gave to me 4 calling birds...
On the fifth day of Christmas my dear love gave to me 5 gold rings...
On the sixth day of Christmas my dear love gave to me 6 geese a-laying ...
On the seventh day of Christmas my dear love gave to me 7 swans a-swimming
On the eighth day of Christmas my dear love gave to me 8 maids a-milking ...
On the ninth day of Christmas my dear love gave to me 9 ladies dancing ...
On the tenth day of Christmas my dear love gave to me 10 lords a-leaping ...
On the eleventh day of Christmas my dear love gave to me 11 pipers piping ...
On the twelfth day of Christmas my dear love gave to me 12 drummers drumming ...
(Frederic Austin, 1909. arranged to traditional folk melody)
Originally released as the B-side to the famous White Christmas, this fabulous Christmas tune was written on a hot, dry California summer day, at the request of Frank Sinatra.
Merry Christmas Merry Christmas May your New Year dreams come true
Frosted window panes Candles gleaming inside Painted candy canes on the tree Santa’s on his way He’s filled his sleigh with things Things for you and for me
It’s that time of year When the world falls in love Every song you hear seems to say Merry Christmas May your New Year dreams come true And this song of mine In three-quarter time Wishes you and yours The same thing too