Can anyone help me understand an essay in spanish by Mariano de Larra called "La Nochebuena de 1836?"

Question

I need help with this, I have a paper due on it next week. I just need help with translation or maybe any other info you have on it. If you have read it, or know anything about it please help me. I have tried the translation on altavista.com Babelfish but it's not very helpful.
The link to the essay in spanish is here http://www.ensayistas.org/antologia/XIXE/larra/larra14.htm .

Thank you!

Answer 1

The christmas eve of 1836 me and my maid. Phylosopic Delirium

Number 24 is fatal for me, if I needed to try it I would say that I was born on the 24th. Twelve times a year is day, although, im supersticious. cause a man´s heart needs to believe in somethingand he believes lies when there´s no truths to believe. Thats why, with out a doubt the lovers believe the married and the little towns to their idols, to their goverments and one of my supersticions is to believe that theres no a good day 24th. the day 23th is on my calendar a call to the pain and to the imitation of that rusian chief policeman who order to have ready the bombs before the fire happens, thats why i prevent myself since the 23 day, to the next day of pain and suffer and before twelve in the clock I don´t even take a glass with my hand so I don´t broke it, and I don´t point letter so i don´t lose it and i don´t try to make a women to fall in love with me cause i don´t want her to tell me yes, cause if we get to the point of talking of love i have another supersticion: i imagine that the worst misfortune that could happen to a men, is that a woman tell him that she loves him. if you don´t believe it, is a torment and if you believe it: ¡ lucky one the one whom the woman says that she doesnt want himm, cause at leas that one listen the truth!

The last 23 of the year 1836 just finish, with my pendulum showing and because of that on my supersticious principles, I was bended waiting for the rain and without sleep. I stay like that a lot of hours at night, longer for the lonely awake that a civil war; til´morning finally comes with steps of intervention, i mean, really slowly, to paint with purple and pink color the courtains of my stay.

The day before that one, was gorgeous, and i dont why my heart was telling that the day 24th it was going to be day of water. it was even worst, it was snowing. i look the thermometer and it marks a lot of under zero degrees; just like the State´s credit.

I was so convince that i wasn´t going to move myself because i need to do it all the luck of the month, i bend my forhead, heave just like the sky with the cold clouds, and i stand my elbows on the table and i just standby that everyone could say i was a public writer in time of free expresion, or maybe a national military, staying ther by appointment waiting for an exercise. Now I was drifting my look all over the multitud of articules and papers that are there since six months ago without finish it just started over my desk, and just the titles are there, just like those vault on the cemetery that doesn´t wait for anything else than a corpse, exact comparation, cause in each article I buried all hope and ilusion. now i turn my eyes to the my balcony´s window, i saw them misted and just like if they were crying in the inside; the condensated vapor it was sliding like tears on the window; and just like that drop by drop tears fall down all over the heart. the ones who sees the windows from outside they saw it clean and shining; the one´s who sees just the faces, they see them happy and quiet.

I will make a favor to my reader from the more of my meditation; there´s not enough newspapers in Madrid, in that case there not enough reader ethier. lucky one the one who have an office, lucky one the employee, that even with out a salary or with out collect it is just the same one. at least hes not forced to think, he can smoke and he can read the gazette.

¡Four o´clock! ¡Lunch! - told me the voice from a maid, a quite and submissive voice, in the man that serves, even the voice sounds like wants to ask for permission.

I TRY!!!
HOPE IT WORKS!!

Answer 2

Larra's most famous essay, “La Nochebuena de 1836,” was composed less than two months before his death. Its narrator, widely assumed to be Larra himself, tours the city on Christmas Eve and is disturbed to find that the celebrations are marked by sensuality rather than spirituality. He returns home to discover that his servant is intoxicated, and in the classic role reversal associated with carnivals and festivals, the drunken servant freely criticizes the excesses and hypocrisy of his master's class.

Answer 3

La Noche Buena In English

Answer 4

freetranslation.com