"Erev Chanukah"

Hanukah begins this coming Saturday, so I thought I’d post a poem I learned in the 1970’s, the author unnamed.  I found it posted here here, here and here among other places, words varying a bit, sometimes with more English.  Before reading, know the location of your nearest deli.  

  Twas the night before Chanukah, boychiks and maidels,
Not a sound could be heard, not even the dreidels.
The menorah was set by the chimney alight,
In the kitchen the Bubba hut gechapt a bite.

Salami, pastrami, a gleisaele tay,
And zoyreh pickles mit bagels, oy vay!
Gesundt and geschmacht, the kinderlach felt,
While dreaming of taiglach and Chanukah gelt.

The alarm clock was sittin’, akloppen and tickin’,
And Bubba was carving a shtickeleh chicken.
A tummel arose like a thousand Boruchas,
Santa had fallen and broken his tuchas.

I put on my slippers — ein, zwei, drei,
While Bubba was now on the herring and rye.
I grabbed for my robe and buttoned my gotkes,
Now Bubba had almost devoured the latkes.

To the window I ran and to my surprise,
A little red yamulke greeted my eyes.
When he got to the door and saw the menorah,
“Yiddishe kinder,” he said, “Kinehora.
“I thought I was in a hamishe hoise,
“As long as I’m here, I’ll leave you some toys.”

“Come into the kitchen,” I said. “Here’s a dish,
A guppell, a leffel, a shtickele fish.”

With smacks of delight, he started his fressen,
Chopped liver, knaidlech and kreplach ge-essen.
Along with his meal, he had a few schnapps;
When it came to eating, this boy was tops!

He asked for some knishes with pepper and salt,
But they were so hot, he yelled, “Oy gevalt!”
He buttoned his haysen and ran from the tish.
“Your kosherer essen is simply delish.”

As he went through the door, he said “See you all later.
“I’ll be back next Pesach, in time for the seder.”

More rapid than eagles his prancers they came,
As he whistled and shouted and called them by name:
“Now Izzy, now Morris, now Louie and Sammy?
“On Irving, on Maxie and Hymie! and Manny?”
He gave a geshray as he drove out of sight,
“A Gutt Yontiff to all, and to all a good night.”

Author: latanawi

married, of the generation scarred by Vietnam, still mellowing