'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house
Every creature was stirring, even the mouse
No stockings were hung by the chimney with care
Because St Nicholas would never be there
When from out in the front there rose such a clatter
'Twas the Grinch and our treasures climbing down a ladder
A moan and a cry rose to the sky from us all
He'd taken everything, down to the last Christmas ball
With no lights and no tree, no garlands and stockings
Saying Merry Christmas to us would be so mocking
However could we count on the coming of St Nick
When everything was gone, it made us feel sick
But wait, in the sky, what is that right there?
A miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer
He was coming! He was coming after all
It hadn't mattered about that last ball
The lights and the garlands, the stockings didn't matter
It was coming after all and our depression did scatter
Christmas was coming despite that mean Grinch
May his backside ever be caught in a winch
So remember it now, it's a lesson well learned
Out in the workforce it will never be earned
Christmas is in the heart and it cannot be taken
By that mean old Grinch when your treasures he's raking
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem