Night Before Christmas_PINOYSTYLE

 

 

Da night bepor Christmas

An all tru da house

Nating pas

Not eben a mouse.

  Da children dey nossie

all snog on da ploor

An Mama puts newspepper

Tru da crack on da dor.

  Den Mama in da stobe

Roost up da manuk

Steer up da adobo

An make bake da biko.

  Den out on da rud

Dey got such a clatter

Soun like old manong

Pull down da ladder.

  I run so past

To open da dor

I trip ober da dog

An paull down on da ploor!

  As I look out da dor

In da light ob da moon

I tinking "apo, you cresy

I'm gitting old too soon."

  Becus dere on da rud

Wer I turn my head

Dere's eight carabao

Pulling a sled

An a little driber

Wit a big ishtick

I know right away

must be St Nick.

  Mob paster an paster

Da carabao dey come

He wistle an holler

An call dem by nim:

"Oy, Boogy! Oy, Ninoy! Oy, Dong!, an' Bebe! Ay, Inday! Ay, Melda! Cory, an Maria!"

  To da top ob da porch

To da top ob da wall

Crawl da carabao

An dey neber pull.

  Uncle Onsing's pighting chicken

Ober da rooptop he ply

Wen da big dog

He running by

  Up to da porch

Da carabao he clim!

Wit da sled pull of toys

An St Nicklas behin.

  Den on top of da porch roop

It soun like hell

Wer all dem carabaos

Sit down on der till.

  Den down da chimney

I yill por long time

As St Nicolas pull down

An sit on de pire

  "Jesus-Maria-Sep!", he exclim

"My pant hab a hole

Wen I sit down

On da rid hot coal,"

An jump like a cat

out to da ploor

Where he lan wit a splot!

  He was dress in pur

Prom his head to his poot

An his clothes dey all dirty

Wit ashes an soot

A sock pull ob playting

He trow on his back

He look like a boorglar

An dats por a pahct.

His eyes how dey shine

His dimple, how mirrey!

Mebe he alredy drink

Da wine prom da birry.

His chik was like a rose

His nose like a chirry

On secon tought mebe He drink up da shirry.

  Wit snu-white chin wisker

An quibering billy

He shik wen he lop Like da strubirry jelly!

  But a wink in his eye An a shake ob his hid

Mik my compidence dot I no nid to be skirred.

  He don' talk He juss go to his woork

Put playting in sock.

  An den he turn wit a jerk He put bot his han

On top ob his hid An look up da chimney

  An den he said "Wit all dat pire An dat burning hot plim I no go back De sim way I kim."

  So he run out da door An he clim up da roop

He is no pool

Por to make one more goop.

  He jump to his slid An crock his big wip Da carabaos mob down An don mik one slip

  An I hir him shout loud Wit da carabaos he ply "Mirry Christmas to all! An to all a goodbye!"

......end......

 

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