How Lovely Are Your Branches

Here's the stunning piece of contemporary art that was created in our front room this afternoon:

The traditional dinosaur on the top:

No, I don't know why the dinosaur. I take no part in the putting-up-the-tree bit of Christmas. It's not my job. But still, jolly cheery eh?

Here's Vienna's Boys' Choir singing about it all:



Great singing, lads, though I'm not sure about the collars.

Here's the translation:

The people's flag is deepest red
It shrouded oft our martyred dead
And ere their limbs grew stiff and cold
Their hearts' blood dyed to every fold

Chorus:
Then raise the scarlet standard high
Beneath its folds we'll live and die
Though cowards flinch and traitors sneer
We'll keep the red flag flying here

Well, that's how it went in our house, anyway, when I was growing up. It was quite some years before I realised that most people thought it was about a Christmas tree with lovely branches.

You've got to admit that "It shrouded oft our martyred dead" has a bit more kick to it than "How lovely are your branches." All together now!