I hear Christmas singing, the varied carols I hear,

Those of children, each one singing theirs as it

should be loud and cheerful,

The young boy singing his as he dreams of his

gifts or play time.

The animals singing theirs as they make ready for

the winter nap, or leaves off to find food.

The shop owner singing what belongs to him in his
store, the register singing on the cashier table.

The young girl singing as she sits on Santa’s lap,

the parents singing as they take pictures.

The town center’s song, Santa’s on his way
in the sky, or on the rooftop, or in chimneys.

The Christmas bells singing of the joy to come, or of the young
children at play, or of the little trees sitting at homes,
or of the reindeer on their way!

Each singing what belongs to him or her and to make none else,

The light what belongs to the winter—
at dark the bells of Santa’s reindeer and Christmas carols sound aloud,
Singing with open mouth their strong melodious songs