Now Christmas Day has come round again —
and poor North Polar Bear has got a bad pain!
They say he’s swallowed a couple of pounds
of nuts without cracking the shells! It sounds
a Polarish sort of thing to do —
but that isn’t all, between me and you:
he’s eaten a ton of various goods
and recklessly mixed all his favourite foods,
honey with ham and turkey with treacle,
and pickles with milk. I think that a week'll
be needed to put the old bear on his feet.
And I mustn’t forget his particular treat:
plum pudding with sausages and turkish delight
covered with cream and devoured at a bite!
And after this dish he stood on his head —
it's rather a wonder the poor fellow’s not dead!
Absolute ROT:
I have not got
a pain in my pot.
Rude fellow!
I do not eat
turkey or meat:
I stick to the sweet.
Which is why
(as all know) I
am so sweet myself,
you thinuous elf!
Goodby!
He means fatuous
No I don't, you’re not fat,
but thin and silly.
You know my friends too well to think
(although they’re rather rude with ink)
that there are really quarrels here!
We’ve had a very jolly year
(except for Polar Bear’s rusty nail);
but now this rhyme must catch the Mail —
a special messenger must go,
in spite of thickly falling snow,
or else this won’t get down to you
on Christmas day. It’s half past two!
We’ve quite a ton of crackers still
to pull, and glasses still to fill!
Our love to you on this Noel—
and till the next one, fare you well!
Father Christmas
Polar Bear
Ilbereth
Paksu and Valkotukka
J.R.R. Tolkien, Letters from Father Christmas: Centenary Edition, ed. by Baillie Tolkien (London: HarperCollinsPublishers, 2019; 1976), pp. 174-77.