It is January 5, the eve of the Epiphany;
There above the rooftops,the
Old Crone of winter comes -
Hooked nose and chin, wart -
With hair and leathery skin.
On broomstick, riding the
moon-lit night sky -
La Befana soars with bags of
candies and toys.
She lives in a hut outside of Bethlehem -
Her mission -
Follow the bright star to a glorious vision -
A vision of a babe - to gather gifts
and hurry after men!
With kindness she goes from house to house.
She leaves her gifts and searches for
the Christ Child.
Leave her sausages and broccoli and a
glass of wine,
"Ecco La Befana!" is the cry.
"Here's La Befana," the children shout.
The good are left with toys, the bad
only coal!
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