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 gut such
a clatter
Soun like
old manong
Pull down
da ladder.
I run so past
To open da
dor
I trif 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."
Becaoos dere
on da rud
Wer I turn
my head
Dere's eight
carabao
fulling 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 taf ob
da forch
To da taf
ob da wall
Crawl da carabao
An dey neber
paul.
Uncle Onsing's
pighting chicken
Ober da rooptof
he ply
Wen da big
dog
He running
by
Uf to da forch
Da carabao
he clim!
Wit da sled
pull of toys
An St Nicklas
behin.
Den on taf
op da forch 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
paul down
An sit on
de pire
"Jesus-Maria-Sep!",
he exclim
"My fants
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 isflat!
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 flaytings
He trow on
his buck
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 shek 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
foot flaytings
in sock.
An den he turn
wit a jerk
He foot bot
his han
On tof ob
his hid
An look uf
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
uf da roop
He is no pool
Por to make
one more goop.
He jumf to
his slid
An crock his
big wif
Da carabaos
mob down
An don mik
one slif
An I hir him
shout loud
Wit da carabaos
he ply
"Mirry Christmas
to all!
An to all
a goodbye!"