One of Italy's most famous and most loved Christmas carols is Tu scendi dalle stelle, (You Come Down from the Stars), written by the Neapolitan priest Sant'Alfonso Maria de Liguori in 1754. Years later, de Liguori wrote new lyrics for the same tune, but this time in the Neapolitan dialect, naming the song Quanno nascette Ninno, (When the Child was Born). de Liguori was staying at the Convent of the Consolation, Celiceto, Foggia in 1744 when he wrote the song.
In this video, Andrea Bocelli gives his rendition of the song, though it is traditionally performed with the zampogna, the Italian bagpipe.
There have been numerous translations of Tu scendi dalle stelle into English, here is one based on the language of the King James Bible, and another in modern English.
Tu scendi dalle stelle,
o Re del Cielo,
e vieni in una grotta
al freddo e al gelo,
e vieni in una grotta
al freddo e al gelo.
O Bambino mio divino,
io ti vedo qui a tremar,
o Dio beato!
Ah, quanto ti costò
l’avermi amato!
Ah, quanto ti costò
l’avermi amato!
A te che sei del mondo
il Creatore,
mancano panni e fuoco,
o mio Signore,
mancano panni e fuoco,
o mio Signore.
Caro eletto pargoletto,
quanto questa povertà
più m’innamora,
giacché ti fece amor
povero ancora!
Giacché ti fece amor
povero ancora!
Thou comest, glorious King,
A manger low Thy bed,
In winter's icy sting;
O my dearest Child most holy,
Shudd'ring, trembling in the cold!
Great God, Thou lovest me!
What suff'ring Thou didst bear,
That I near Thee might be!
Thou art the world's Creator,
God's own and true Word,
Yet here no robe, no fire
For Thee, Divine Lord.
Dearest, fairest, sweetest Infant,
Dire this state of poverty.
The more I care for Thee,
Since Thou, o Love Divine,
Will'st now so poor to be.
You come down from the stars
Oh King of Heavens,
And you come in a cave
In the cold, in the frost.
And you come in a cave
In the cold, in the frost.
Oh my Divine Baby
I see you trembling here,
Oh Blessed God,
Ah, how much it cost you,
Your loving me.
Ah, how much it cost you,
Your loving me.
For you, who are of all the world
The creator,
No robes and fire,
Oh my Lord.
No robes and fire,
Oh my Lord.
Dear chosen one, little infant
This dire poverty,
Makes me love you more
Since Love made you
Poor now.
Since Love made you
Poor now.