Tämä kalenteri oli edellä aikaansa vasta myöhemmin markkinoille tuli eläviä joulukuusia, joita saattoi vuokrata ruukussa joulun ajaksi ja palauttaa sitten takaisin metsään.
Iloisesti
metsä ryskää, |
| The forest rustles, laughs and coughs, boots sink deep in moss and troughs. They stomp through heather, damp and sweet, they need good noses, mushroom-feet. “Do you know this one?” the small child cries, “Is it a bolete or russula in disguise?” A family outing through autumn’s golden heat is the whole fall’s very greatest treat. |
”Katsokaas
nyt”, isä kutsuu muita, |
| “Come look at this,” calls Dad with pride, “what splendid spruces on this hillside! That one there stands straight and tall, a noble crown, the best of all. This Christmas we’ll do it differently, see— I’ll fetch our tree myself, just me. I’ll mark it now with a mighty X so clear, and bring it home for Christmas this year.” |
”Kehuvat
noin vaaria upeaa, |
| “They’re praising Grandpa’s tree so grand, I almost cannot bear it,” grumbles little Terry at his friend, who’s quick to boast and share it. He mutters low to Trevor near: “I need to grow, make this quite clear. Someday I’ll be proud and tall and fine— oh, if only the road to that weren’t such a climb!” |
”Pois
mielestä jättäkää moinen hupsutus, |
| “Now stop that foolish wishful game, only a fool would dream such fame,” an ancient spruce breaks in, annoyed, at the youngsters’ silly ploy. “A Christmas spruce has a gloomy fate: cut at the base and dragged through snow’s white plate, its branches trail sad tracks behind the haul, when people drag their tree back home to the hall.” |
”Siellä
huoneen nukassa kuusi saa kökkiä, |
| “There in the corner your trunk will stay, while children poke baubles your branches’ way. Sometimes candles scorch the needles’ green, and smoke from singed twigs can be seen. You might get praise for shining glow, but do you feel so grand—or more like a show…?” |
”Noin
äkkiä katoo mainen kunnia, |
| “So quickly all that glory’s gone, I never knew our fate was wrong!” Terry suddenly sees the bitter end, that X has doomed that spruce, their good friend. Now danger hangs above their grand old chap: the humans will return and spring their trap. Our bushy, handsome, venerable kin they’ll take back home to join their Christmas din! |
Jouluun on aikaa enää vain vähän, |
| There’s not much time ‘til Christmas snow, they must find answers fast, not slow. They think and think, then shout, “Of course! We’ll claim it’s home to a flying squirrel force!” They scratch and scribble, work and draw, until a sign reads: “Do not saw! A flying squirrel nests here, please be clever— this very tree’s its only shelter, ever.” |
Juuri ajoissa ehtivät kyltin laittaa, |
| They place the sign with just-saved speed, as family feet crunch forest weed. “Look over there, I see it still, that splendid spruce upon the hill. I marked its trunk, the perfect pick!” “Dad, read the sign now—don’t be quick. That message might be something we should heed… perhaps this year no tree should leave this weed.” |
”Selvittiin
siitä, hip ja hei, |
| “We made it through—hooray, hooray! Our wit has won the day today!” The other spruces clap their boughs in glee: “The family goes home with no Christmas tree!” But Trevor will not join their cheer, he grumbles softly in the rear: “Don’t hug each other yet with joy, my friend— the humans might come back again.” |
Niin
käykin, varoittaa huudolla naakka: |
| And so it goes, the jackdaw cries: “A man returns under wintry skies!” Dad comes back with a heavy load, a chainsaw swinging down the road. “That sign was just a childish prank— I got the papers, full and frank. I’ve got a new attempt in store— today we’ll cut our Christmas tree once more!” |
Apua
- nyt on kiire ja hoppu, |
| Help! There’s haste, a rush, a fright, or Grandpa’s tale will end tonight! Dad trusts the power of roaring steel, the chainsaw hum his final deal. Terry flips the fuel cap wide, pours in sand and grit inside. The saw won’t sing, it coughs instead, and felling plans are left for dead. |
He
palaavat vielä, se uskoa pitää, |
| “They’ll be back again,” sigh all the trees, “the same old danger from every breeze.” “One grandpa won’t be enough,” says Trevor, “we must move all spruces out forever. We’ll draft a plan with needles and pen, and fight for spruce rights here and then. No more will they rip off our branches to keep— under cover of night we’ll quietly creep!” |
”Nyt
katsokaa tänne, kääntäkää vartta, |
| “Come gather ‘round, just turn your crown, here’s our escape-route, clearly drawn.” Some older trees still doubt the scheme: “With legs like these? It’s just a dream.” “If you tug quite gently, the roots will free, and no great damage there will be. You’ll move just fine on that tangled lace, like an octopus shuffling from place to place.” |
Kun
varmuus on saatu, saa sana kiiriä, |
| Once they’re convinced, the message flies, through forest folk beneath the skies. From land to land an open door, the news spreads faster than before. Soon humans wonder: “Will wind arise?” They hear a secret rustling sigh. But it’s no wind that combs the wood— it’s spruces sending rebellion through the hood. |
Sinä
yönä kuuset karata alkaa, |
| That very night the spruces sneak, each careful step on one root-peak. “Good luck, farewell, enjoy the road, we’ll hide the traces of your load!” call birch and aspen, kindly hosts, and pine, too, waves from rocky posts: “I’ll sweep your pits with needles fine, but they’ll be here still if you ever return in time.” |
”Mitä
kummaa??” pääsee isän suusta, |
| “What on earth?” comes Dad’s amazed reply— not one single spruce beneath the sky! “Has someone else cut down my trees?” But not a stump, no marks, no leaves. No trunks, no branches, not a shred, “None of this makes sense,” amazed he said. “I guess I’ll have to give this up, the plan is dead bring home a plastic tree instead.” |
On
hiljaista taas ja kaikki nukkuu, |
| Now hush returns, and all is still, the spruces vanish beyond the hill. “It’s hard to move,” groans Trevor in pain, his roots carve deep a furrowed lane. But Christmas always rushes by, no one studies tracks with a busy eye. Though the journey’s long and dawn’s far away, by morning the spruces stand in place to stay. |
Isä
vilkaisee ulos, saa silmiä hieroa, |
| Dad rubs his eyes and stares outside, “Is there some trick they’re trying to hide? Has a new park sprung up overnight?” he wonders, blinking at the sight. A strange unease hangs all day long, he digs for the reason, feels something’s wrong. But when he heads home in the evening glow, the spruces have vanished as if from the snow. |
Kautta
maailman TV uutisoi: |
| Across the globe the TV cries: “What’s behind this strange surprise? The fir plantations are bearing no yield, and spruces vanish from natural field. Other trees still stand in line, while scientists puzzle at each sign. What causes this odd Christmas-tree loss— could it be climate change at any cost?” |
Vaan
kyllä löytyisi kuusimetsiä, |
| Yet spruce forests still exist, you know, if humans learned where they should go. Beyond the fells the treeline starts, where spruces share the wild with hearts of lemmings, foxes, silent deer— all find their refuge safely here. And tannenbaums, from trouble released, find asylum in the Alpine east. |
”Ootte
aika poikia”, toiset myöntää, |
| “You’re quite some lads,” the others cheer, as roots push deep in tundra here. Their roots are cracked from travel long, but every step was worth it, strong. Here they’ll wait for summer’s song, while mountain swallows nest along. That night they sleep a slumber deep, as snowflakes on their branches heap. |
Kun
toiset vaipuvat Lapin huumaan, |
| While others dream in the mountain's spell, Trevor hatches a plan as well: “We made it here, so let’s rejoice— we’ll share this Christmas with one voice. It’s time we celebrate true and bright, we know how to make a real Yule night!” At first they hesitate, unsure who leads— but in this grand feast Trevor takes the deeds. |
Nyt
pystyyn laitetaan perinteet omat, |
| They set up customs, spruce-made and new, each chooses ornaments dear and true. The line for trinkets is long and bright, one tries on tinsel of gold so light. “How does this blue one suit my crown? Don’t hog the lametta, pass it around!” The spruce-maids hang baubles on each limb high, and the spruce-lads slowly join the joy nearby. |
Koittaa
vihdoin juhla ja ilta aaton. |
| At last the feast of Christmas Eve comes near, they welcome the Santa of forests here, who, on his way home from gift-giving round, spots spruces secretly dancing on ground. “You trees are nearly like people, I’d say, you dance at Christmas in your own way. In the pecking order some new winds blow — instead of a tree you decorate a scarecrow!” |