Erich Kästner: Als der Nikolaus kam

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Tirah
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Erich Kästner: Als der Nikolaus kam

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Erich Kästner: Als der Nikolaus kam



Klappentext:
In der Nacht vor dem Christfest ist alles still - nicht einmal eine Maus regt sich…
Die Kinder liegen im Bett und träumen von Äpfeln, Nüssen, Lebkuchen und davon, daß der Nikolaus kommt.


Allgemeines:
Im Jahre 1823 veröffentliche der amerikanische Dichter Clement Clarke Moore das Gedicht „A Visit from St. Nicholas“, das auch heute noch populär ist.


Beurteilung:
1947 übersetzte Erich Kästner das Gedicht „A Visit from St. Nicholas“ ins Deutsche. Diese Übersetzung wurde (von Ted Rand illustriert) neu veröffentlicht. Die gesamte Ausgabe ist sehr gelungen, aber ich würde der Verlagsangabe nicht zustimmen, die das Buch für Kinder ab 4 Jahren empfiehlt. Dafür sind die Illustrationen zwar gelungen, aber zu düster gehalten. Für ältere Kinder (oder Erwachsene) ist es eine schöne Ausgabe des Gedichtes, die man wunderbar zur Weihnachtszeit beim Adventskaffee vorlesen kann.
:weihnacht:


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Illustrationen: Ted Rand
Kategorie: Weihnachten
Hardcover
Findling
20 Seiten
ISBN 3314016867 bzw. 978-3314016868
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My recurring fantasy about libraries is that at night, after everyone goes home, the books come to life and mingle in a fabulous cocktail party. (Neal Wyatt)
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Clement C. Moore: Endlich kommt der Weihnachtsmann

Beitrag von Tirah »

Clement C. Moore: Endlich kommt der Weihnachtsmann




Beurteilung:
Für kleinere Kinder ist dieses Buch besser geeignet, als die oben gennante Ausgabe. Durch die farbenfrohen, hellen Illustrationen und die dicken Pappseiten haben bereits zweijährige Kinder ihre Freude daran. Da das Buch zudem im Kleinformat (12,5 x 16cm) gehalten ist, können Kinderhände es besser greifen. Die Übersetzung weicht zwar von der Erich Kästners ab, ist aber nicht minder gelungen.
Leider ist diese Ausgabe nur noch gebraucht erhältlich.


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Originaltitel: A Visit from St. Nicholas
Übersetzer: Rolf Polander
Illustrationen: Dudley Mosely
Kategorie: Weihnachten
Hardcover
gondolino
Seiten
ISBN 3811220675 bzw. 978-3811220676
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My recurring fantasy about libraries is that at night, after everyone goes home, the books come to life and mingle in a fabulous cocktail party. (Neal Wyatt)
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Clement Clarke Moore: A Visit from St. Nicholas

Beitrag von Tirah »

Und hier das Gedicht im Original:


Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St Nicholas soon would be there.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads.
And mamma in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap.

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tinny reindeer.

With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!

"Now Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! On, Cupid! on, on Donner and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of Toys, and St Nicholas too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
A bundle of Toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler, just opening his pack.

His eyes-how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow.

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly!

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself!
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose!

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!"
Bild

My recurring fantasy about libraries is that at night, after everyone goes home, the books come to life and mingle in a fabulous cocktail party. (Neal Wyatt)
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