La notte
prima di Natale
scritto da Clement Clarke Moore, illustrato da Gennady Spirin, tradotto da Leonid
Yahnin, edizioni Ripol-Classic
Questo celebre poema natalizio incanta il mondo da
quasi due secoli. Proprio Clement Clarke Moore ha descritto per la prima volta
l'aspetto di Babbo Natale come tutti noi lo conosciamo, quel gioviale
vecchietto con la barba bianca e la pancia rotonda
, con il sacco sulle spalle pieno di giocattoli. Da allora in poi da questo poema sono stati fatti molti adattamenti musicali, un film muto, cartoni animati, ma io voglio raccontare del libro con le bellissime illustrazioni di Gennady Spirin. Spirin è un grande e geniale artista, oltre a questo lui ha creato più di 40 bellissimi libri per bambini. Dico subito che "La notte prima di Natale" non è l’unico libro che vi faccio vedere. Sicuramente ce ne saranno anche altri con le sue illustrazioni. Questo libro è in russo con l’eccellente traduzione di Leonid Yahnin. Volevo tanto mettere il testo in italiano, ma purtroppo non ho trovato una buona traduzione. Quello che ho trovato su internet non sembra nemmeno una poesia. Allora, in inglese.
, con il sacco sulle spalle pieno di giocattoli. Da allora in poi da questo poema sono stati fatti molti adattamenti musicali, un film muto, cartoni animati, ma io voglio raccontare del libro con le bellissime illustrazioni di Gennady Spirin. Spirin è un grande e geniale artista, oltre a questo lui ha creato più di 40 bellissimi libri per bambini. Dico subito che "La notte prima di Natale" non è l’unico libro che vi faccio vedere. Sicuramente ce ne saranno anche altri con le sue illustrazioni. Questo libro è in russo con l’eccellente traduzione di Leonid Yahnin. Volevo tanto mettere il testo in italiano, ma purtroppo non ho trovato una buona traduzione. Quello che ho trovato su internet non sembra nemmeno una poesia. Allora, in inglese.
Twas the Night before Christmas Poem
Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St Nicholas soon would be there.
The children were nestled all
snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads.
And mamma in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the
new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tinny reindeer.
With a little old driver, so
lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!
"Now Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! On, Cupid! on, on Donner and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash
away all!"
As dry leaves that before the
wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of Toys, and St Nicholas too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur,
from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
A bundle of Toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler, just opening his pack.
His eyes-how they twinkled!
his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow.
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly!
He was chubby and plump, a
right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself!
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word, but went
straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose!
He sprang to his sleigh, to
his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!"
Per far conoscere meglio GennadySpirin metto
quì anche qualche altro suo disegno. Godeteveli...
Cappuccetto rosso
Perceval
I viaggi di
Gulliver
L'inverno russo
La foresta
boreale
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