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A Christmas Peril

by Kent M. Pitman

Un Villancico Ominoso

por Kent M. Pitman
traducido por Mariela C. Riva y Kent M. Pitman

’Twas the first iceless Christmas, and all through the world,
  it was warm enough now, the last snowflake had swirled.
The stockings were hung in the humid night air
  in mem’ry of times when St. Nick would come there.

En muy pocas horas vendrá la primera
    navidad sin hielo en toda la tierra.
Las medias, colgadas, esperan pacientes,
    así como hacían en días ausentes.

The children were sweating atop a clean sheet,
  wishing somehow they’d manage to beat the night heat.
My stories of polar caps had some appeal,
  But I couldn’t explain—it just sounded surreal:

Los niños, sudando, en sábanas blancas,
    combaten calor que no para por trancas,
No sirven mis cuentos de capas polares,
    ni ellos comprenden si tú explicares.

I’d point to the freezer then wave my arms wide,
  “It was just like in there—but they had it outside.”
The kids couldn’t fathom the words they were told
  of an ocean of water, turned ice by the cold.

Agito los brazos hacia nuestra la nevera.
    “Era como ahí dentro, pero estaba afuera.”
No comprenden mis hijos tal mundo ajeno
    un océano de aguas que antaño era de hielo.

So my tales of such things must have ended up boring.
  All I know, in the end, is it had them soon snoring.
Then I kissed their small foreheads, and looked to the sky,
  and thought about how we had got here, and why.

Por fin, aburridos, como no lo entienden,
    cansados de cuentos, contentos, se duermen.
Contemplando el cielo, yo beso sus frentes,
    lamentando la senda a nuestro presente.

As I watched through the fog and the mist and the haze,
  A twinkle of something soon captured my gaze.
I patiently watched as it moved to our shore.
  Each moment that passed, I could see a bit more.

Y en tanto mis ojos traspasan la nada,
    un destello que capta al fin mi mirada.
Lo observo moverse, como si él flotara.
    Se acerca y de a poco, mi visión se aclara.

An orca, eight dolphins, with someone in tow.
  Even at SeaWorld I’d seen no such show.
The figure approached and I poured up some nog,
  It was plainly St. Nick coming out of the fog.

Ballena y delfines, con marino aplomo,
    avanzan despacio con alguien a lomos;
Y veo, sin duda, que aquella figura
    es Papá Noel, escapando la bruma.

But to my horror, slung over his back,
  weren’t presents but coal brimming out of his sack.
Nor was it the clean kind, or some such confusion.
  He was angry, you see, there could be no illusion.

Pero a sus espaldas no lleva regalos:
    sino bolsas de carbón como si fuésemos malos.
Ni es “carbón limpio”, o tal clase de chiste.
    Él es tan indignado que me pone muy triste.

“You’re killing the planet,” he said with a frown,
  “It’s time you got busy and turned that around.”
He fussed and he fretted. He was loaded for bear—
  Not that any were left, I thought with a scare.

“Matan al planeta,” vocifera, resuelto.
    “Es tiempo de aunarse y darle la vuelta.”
Parece estar listo para lucha con oso,
    si no fueran extintos, esos seres luctuosos.

And just about then, I screamed—and it woke us!
  It had all been a dream, but in frightening focus.
I told of my dream to my kids, still sheet white,
  “It was awful,” I said, “but may soon be our plight.”

Despierto con grito que resuena en la calle.
    Fue todo un sueño, mas con tanto detalle.
Relato a mis hijos mi cuento pequeño.
    “Fue horrible”, explico, “la visiõn de mi sueño.”

We wrote up a letter to Santa that night,
  It was different than normal, and much more contrite.
“Dear Santa,” it started, and went on from there.
  We wanted him knowing we really do care.

Esa noche escribimos nuestra carta de siempre,
    No fue como las otras, sino más consciente.
“Querido Papá”, empezaron las palabras,
    Queremos que sepa que nos importaba.

“We’ve given no thought to the plight of the elves
  as the ice has been melting and falling from shelves.
We’ve taken your toys for a number of years,
  it’s time we helped you, lest more ice turn to tears.”

“No pensamos jamás ni en ti ni en tus duendes,
    mientras bloques de hielo se caen, fundentes.
Aceptamos juguetes sin culpa. ¡No más,
    para que el hielo no sea llanto jamás!

“Don’t worry about us, we’re feeling a shift,
  The Earth, by itself, is enough of a gift.
Whatever it takes, after this Christmas Carol,
  it’s time we wake up to our planet in peril.”

“No temas por nos, verás un contraste,
    Por regalo, juramos, el mundo nos baste.
Cueste lo que cueste, tras este villancico,
    tomaremos cuidado de un mundo en peligro.”

So we propped up the letter, with cookies and tea,
  And I tucked in the kids, feeling finally free.
There was still much to do, in the days up ahead
  But for now I was calm again, ready for bed.

Respaldamos la carta con masas y té,
    y yo, libre por fin, sin pensar, dormité.
Había mucho pendiente, pero estaba con calma,
    mi mente feliz, satisfecha mi alma.

As I drifted, I heard a voice, ever so slight,
  “Merry Christmas to all, and to all a cool night!”

Y mientras dormía, llegó voz serena:
    “¡Una fresca Navidad y feliz Nochebuena!”

Original poem in English
Copyright © 2008, 2009, 2011, 2014, 2015 Kent M. Pitman.
All Rights Reserved.

Translation from English to Spanish
Copyright © 2015 Kent M. Pitman and Mariela C. Riva
All Rights Reserved.

Permission to copy, to distribute, and to perform or publicly display this work is granted provided that the work, including this copyright notice, is copied in its entirety, that the work is not modified, that no derivative works are created, and that the use is non-commercial. All other uses require negotiated permission.


This is version 1.5.

Edit History

Version 1.5 adds a Spanish translation.
Version 1.4 adds missing doublequotes.
Version 1.3 corrects another small bit of metering.
Version 1.2 changed some lines that had poor meter.
Version 1.1 corrected some slight wording glitches.

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Copyright © 2011 by Kent M. Pitman. All Rights Reserved.