CHRISTMAS POEMS -- WINDS THROUGH THE OLIVE TREES

Winds through the olive trees
Softly did blow
Round little Bethlehem,
Long, long ago.

Sheep on the hillside lay
White as the snow,
Shepherds were watching them,
Long, long ago.

Then from the happy skies
Angels bent low,
Singing their songs of joy,
Long, long ago.

For in his manger bed
Cradled we know,
Christ came to Bethlehem,
Long, long ago.

Traditional Gascon