T’was the night before Natale, when all through our Italian house,

not a creature was stirring, not even the furry creature in the cantina, Giancarlo the mouse!

The stockings or calze were hung by the chimney with care,

do we open the gifts one day early ? No, we would not dare!

We dreamed in hopes and visions of Christmas Day!

What we bought for mama and papa we would not say,

as we gazed at the beautiful bows that were neatly tied across our fresh pastry tray!

We lay our nativity under our tree,

oh, the gawdy Christmas lights our neighbors did see!

The bambinos were nestled in their beds, while visions of ravioli, cannoli, and perugina danced in their heads.

Mama wearing her Christmas apron or  sanale, red slippers and the mopine glowing in her hand,

papa sat next  to the radio  as he listened to his favorite Italian band!

and I in my cap,

resting my stomach filled with anisette cookies during my nap!

When out on our deck, there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the window I flew like a flash, hoping to catch a glimpse, by chance,

It was St. Nicola doing a dance!

Oh what could it be?

I was hoping to see,

and as my eyes lit up, there it was!

St. Nicola, his wife, aunts, uncles, and all the Christmas donkeys doing the Tarantella,

and eating home made bread and nutella!

The moon or luna  danced on the fallen snow, as it gave luster to the objects below!

When what to my wondering eyes should appear?

Eight tiny donkeys, Gino, Philipo, Carmine, Antonio! Umberto, Mario, Paulo, and Marco

Now Gino, Now Philipo, Now Carmine, on Antonio!,

On Umberto, Mario, on Paulo on Marco 

Do the tarantella to the top of the porch, to the top of the wall, and leave costagna, home made wine,  torrone, nutella, and pannetone for all!

Over to the cantina they flew, leaving home made wine of red and white,

Oh what a beautiful Christmas sight!

Fresh ricotta with a red and green bow, sparkled in my eyes like the Christmas snow!

And then, in a twinkling, I heard them on the roof, still dancing the tarantella with the beating of each hoof,

As I turned my head and was turning around,

Down Came St. Nicola with a bag of costagna, torrone, nutella, and panetone, and another familiar sound!

St. Nicola, his aunts, uncles, and donkeys were singing the Mario Lanza Christmas song,

As he ate the plate of struffoli, then I knew it would not be long!

There he was, dressed in fur,

from his head to his Salvatore Ferragamo clad foot,

And his clothes were all tarnished with cannoli cream, ashes and soot

A bundle of food he had flung on his back,

when suddenly, he took out the torrone and gave it a whack!

 
His blood shot eyes twinkled with the glow of the home-made wine, his dimples were so merry,

His cheeks like the inside of the Italian fresh figs, as he filled them with mastacolli,  his nose like a maraschino cherry!

The cannoli lit up  his eyes,

And all of the donkeys gave out their sighs,

After devouring the ravioli and mastacolli, they all had round bellies

and very big thighs!

I could not believe my eyes!

 
A Lucky Strike cigarette  he held tight in his teeth,
and the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.

As chubby and plump, but did not make a sound,

He unbuckled his belt, and sniffed the left over food like a hound!
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
he ate some broccoli rabe, and I realized that I had nothing to dread.

He spoke not a word, but  ate and ate and ate,

I tried to sneak a piece of torrone,

but I became drowsy as it was very late!

He laid his fingers on top of his belt,

And all of the donkeys looked around to see what they had smelt,

The donkeys’ eyes lit up like a star

as they smelled the left over meatballs and anchovies from a far!

He sprang to his sleigh, to the donkeys he gave a whistle, but before they would fly away like the down of a thistle,

the donkeys were not ready to leave!

But I heard them all say, we drove out of site,

to eat enough food to fill our stomachs until the 100th night!

The angel on the top of our tree was such a beautiful sight to see,

when Carmine the donkey drank the last bottle of Sambucca, and tipped over the tree

as St. Nicola shouted, "Carmine, siete un briaco" (Carmine you are a drunk)  and then, thump! Carmine  fell on his knee!

Gino and Philippo poked around,

trying not to make a sound,

Their eyes grew big,

as they ate mama's fried fritters filled with fig!

As the moon beams glowed on the floor,

they devoured the plate of pannetone until there was not any more!

Umberto, Paulo, Mario and Marco poked around the room,

when suddenly, there was a boom!

They broke mama's roman statue in the living room,

which was filled with the lustrous plastic golden grapes!

the rest of the Italian donkeys continued to dance, as they got tangled up in mama's imported, lace Italian drapes!

They jumped over our velvet chairs like a hurdle,

as they opened nonna's gift under the tree, but got scared when they saw it was only a girdle!

Antonio ate the pastry filled with prune,

he became saddened to think he would have to leave soon,

Wait, what was the matter?

as his stomach grew fatter,

he realized he could not leave without a shot of limoncello.

He devoured his drink,

and sniffed the scent of boccola at our sink!

He stole the brocciola, and ricotta pie,

when my mama wakes up, she is going to cry!

Off they went, singing the Mario Lanza Christmas song,

I gazed at the moon, and knew it would not be long,

as I saw St. NIcola, his aunts, uncles and donkeys swaying near the moon!

It would be Christmas Day soon!

I wiped my tired eyes,

and let out a few sighs,

for soon my family would arise!

Oh, to St. Antonio I did pray,

for all the screaming and yelling and the words my mama will say on Christmas Day!,

My boccola!, my broccoli rabe!, and who were the drunks who stole my home made wine?!

Who broke my Roman Statue that used to shine?

I fell asleep as it started to snow,

what happened at our Italian house the night before Christmas, no one would ever know.

Buon Natale to all, and to all a good night!

Written by  Joanna Leone

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