Il-presepju tal-Milied (The Christmas Cradle)

Bambin tax-xama’, fuq żewġ tibniet:
Madwaru siekta, erba’ nagħġiet.

‘L hawn għarrkopptejha, Ommu Marija
Tħares titgħaxxaq, b’dik it-Tarbija.

Ġużeppi ħiemed, kollu ħosbien,
Mill-belt imkeċċi, x’aktarx għajjien.

Anġlu tax-xama’, f’idu l-kelmiet:
“Glorja lil Alla fl’ogħla smewwiet!”

Ftit ‘l hemm il-baqra, b’għajnejha kbar
Donnha b’nifisha, se ssaħħan lgħar.

Lil hinn il-ħmara, tħares f’dagħbien.
Ma tistax tifhem, x’misteru kien:

Kif l’Iben t’Alla, kbir u setgħan
Twieled f’għar fqajjar mhux f’dejr sultan!

Lgħar nofsu mdawwal, min-nar għajjien
Issa jitqawwa, issa jiċkien.

Fl-isfond tal-qasam, xi ragħaj fil-bogħ’d
Jidher iqarreb, donnu jirtogħ’d!

Meta Diċembru, jerġa’ fil-qrib,
Dan il-Presepju, imkienu jsib.

U xħin id-dalma, terġa’ filgħaxija
Dwaru ninġabru, lkoll għalenija.

Mgħaxxqin inħarsu, lejn il-Bambin,
Xi talba ingedwdu, ta’tfal ċkejknin.

– Alfred Cachia
– Sung in Maltese

Translation:
A wax’d Jesus lies on some straw:
Surrounded by four quiet lambs.

Nearby kneels Mary, his mother
Gazing at the Child with pride.

Joseph stands silent, deep in thought,
Thrown out of the city, probably tired.

A wax’d angel holds the words:
“Glory to God in the highest!”

Close by, the cow, with its large eyes
Stands warming the cave with its breath.

Close by, the donkey, staring and mute
Doesn’t understand the mystery:

How God’s own son, mighty and strong
Is born in a poor cave and not in a king’s palace!

The cave is dark, lit by a fire
First growing strong, then weakening.

Shepherds draw near, come from afar
Shaking in awe and wonder!

Each year as December approaches,
This crib will find its proper place.

And at dark, when night falls again
We will gather around him joyfully.

And joyously looking at Baby Jesus,
Murmur simple children’s prayers.