We've carried wood and water, we've lit our Christmas tree.
The robins in our oat sheaves are feasting merrily.
Now let us take a rest; cuddle up, dear, to my lap.
And I will rock the cradle while your brother has his nap.
...
Read full text
This is not my creation. I tried to translate a popular song by the Norwegian author Alf Proysen (Prøysen)