This piyyut is signed “Elyaqim Ḥazaq.” Alas, we do not know who this Elyaqim was or even whether he was a rabbinic or Karaite Jew. The piyyut has been preserved for us in the Karaite cycle (Vilna printing press, 1852, Vol. IV, p. 135.) and there are several other piyyutim signed with his name. . . .

A litany of mythical guests and creatures presenting at the Passover seder. . . .

A pizmon in the nusaḥ hasepharadim recited at Seliḥot during the monh of Elul and Yom Kippur. . . .

An alphabetic acrostic pizmon for seliḥot and Yom Kippur with an alphabetic acrostic English translation. . . .

One of the most well-known of the kinot (liturgical poems for mourning), Eli Tsiyon v’Areha is an alphabetical acrostic describing the destruction of Jerusalem. It is recited towards the conclusion of ḳinot, due to the hopeful note in the comparison of Zion to a woman about to give birth, thought by many to be a messianic reference. The author of the work is unknown. . . .

This prayer appears on page 13-16 of Hayyim Obadya’s Seder Akhilat haSimanim for 5781. It is a variation of the piyyut Tayanu v’Tayatru albeit with a different opening line. . . .

A penitential piyyut for the fast of the 17th of Tammuz. . . .

A song for celebrating the Shabbat. . . .

The Tabula Smaragdina, or the Emerald Tablet, is a cryptic and compact work, part of the Technical Hermetica — a genre of mystical and magical texts of great popularity in the medieval and renaissance era. Traditionally attributed to the legendary figure Hermes Trismegistus, it is considered a foundational text for Near Eastern and European alchemy. It is the ultimate source of the popular occultist expression “as above, so below,” although that specific expression doesn’t appear in the original Arabic text as found in the ninth-century Secret of Creation. . . .

This is a litanic Ḳiddush for a Rosh Ḥodesh meal, constructed based on the Ḳiddush for Rosh Ḥodesh in Jerusalem as described in Masekhet Soferim chapter 19:9, mostly following the GRA’s edition. Traditionally it would be done in the presence of twelve town elders and twelve scholars of ritual purity, but today we could adapt it to be recited at a festive meal for Rosh Ḥodesh in the presence of seven — the minyan count according to the traditional Western practice recorded elsewhere in Masekhet Soferim 10:7. . . .

The “minor tractate” Soferim is one of our best sources for early liturgical practice. It is the oldest known source for multiple practices still followed today, such as the blessing for the haftarah. Such luminaries as the Vilna Gaon considered it a vital work. But some of its practices are… well, odd. There are customs in Tractate Soferim which are found nowhere else in classical rabbinics — blessings for the recitation of books in Writings other than the scrolls, a three-year cycle of Torah readings, and a custom to divide the scrolls in half when reading them. This service is constructed based on the descriptions and passages of Tractate Soferim, mostly following the Gra’s edition. In some ways it may be very familiar, especially to Ashkenazim, but in others it is a fascinating glimpse into a heretofore lost practice of Judaism. . . .

This is the schedule for the reading of psalms corresponding to Festivals and Commemorative Days, according to Tractate Soferim 18:2-3 and 19:2. . . .

In Yemenite Jewish children’s schools, this prayer of unknown authorship is said before the lesson in unison. The teacher conducts and the children sing together to a melody. The prayer is printed in tajjim (Yemenite trilingual Pentateuch codices) before the book of Leviticus, traditionally the starting point for a child’s education. The first twenty-two lines of the prayer are an alphabetical acrostic wherein each line spells out the entire letter in which it starts. For instance, the first line spells out Alef, Lamed, and Pe, which spells out the full name of the letter Alef. This is followed by three Biblical verses all starting with the word “Good,” a brief poem in Hebrew, and a concluding passage largely in Judeo-Arabic. Here the editor has included the original text, along with a non-gendered English translation and a transcription of the Judeo-Arabic text into Arabic script. . . .

In Jewish liturgy, some passages are dəvarim she-bi-qdushah, passages that require public communal prayer. Most famous among these are the Qaddish, Barkhu, and Qədushah. But people are not always able to pray in a community! In liturgical history both ancient and modern many different tashlumim (replacements) for these texts when praying individually have been suggested. The following is the Qədusha of Minḥah for an individual from Seder Rav ȝAmram, the oldest known full siddur. Much of the content of these tashlumim is from the hekhalot literature or the Gemara, often demonstrating girsaot not otherwise known. . . .

In Jewish liturgy, some passages are dəvarim she-bi-qdushah, passages that require public communal prayer. Most famous among these are the Qaddish, Barkhu, and Qədushah. But people are not always able to pray in a community! In liturgical history both ancient and modern many different tashlumim (replacements) for these texts when praying individually have been suggested. The following is the Qaddish Y’hei Shmeih after Shaḥarit for an individual from Seder Rav ȝAmram, the oldest known full siddur. Much of the content of these tashlumim is from the hekhalot literature or the Gemara, often demonstrating girsaot not otherwise known. . . .

In Jewish liturgy, some passages are dəvarim she-bi-qdushah, passages that require public communal prayer. Most famous among these are the Qaddish, Barkhu, and Qədushah. But people are not always able to pray in a community! In liturgical history both ancient and modern many different tashlumim (replacements) for these texts when praying individually have been suggested. The following is the Full Qaddish after Shaḥarit for an individual from Seder Rav ȝAmram, the oldest known full siddur. Much of the content of these tashlumim is from the hekhalot literature or the Gemara, often demonstrating girsaot not otherwise known. The entire midrash provided here is sometimes found under the name “The Feast of the Garden of Eden.” . . .

In Jewish liturgy, some passages are dəvarim she-bi-qdushah, passages that require public communal prayer. Most famous among these are the Qaddish, Barkhu, and Qədushah. But people are not always able to pray in a community! In liturgical history both ancient and modern many different tashlumim (replacements) for these texts when praying individually have been suggested. The following is the Qədusha of Shaḥarit for an individual from Seder Rav ȝAmram, the oldest known full siddur. Much of the content is from the hekhalot literature or the Gemara, often demonstrating girsaot not otherwise known. . . .

In Jewish liturgy, some passages are dəvarim she-bi-qdushah, passages that require public communal prayer. Most famous among these are the Qaddish, Barkhu, and Qədushah. But people are not always able to pray in a community! In liturgical history both ancient and modern many different tashlumim (replacements) for these texts when praying individually have been suggested. The following is the Qədusha d-Sidra for an individual from Seder Rav ȝAmram, the oldest known full siddur. (The Qədusha d-Sidra is no longer considered dəvarim she-biqdushah, although Baladi-rite Yemenites replace “קדוש קדוש קודש” with one “קדושת.”) Much of the content is from the hekhalot literature or the Gemara, often demonstrating girsaot not otherwise known. . . .

In Jewish liturgy, some passages are dəvarim she-bi-qdushah, passages that require public communal prayer. Most famous among these are the Qaddish, Barkhu, and Qədushah. But people are not always able to pray in a community! In liturgical history both ancient and modern many different tashlumim (replacements) for these texts when praying individually have been suggested. The following is the Ḥatsi Qaddish between Taḥanun and Ashrei for an individual from Seder Rav ȝAmram, the oldest known full siddur. Much of the content is from the hekhalot literature or the Gemara, often demonstrating girsaot not otherwise known. . . .

In Jewish liturgy, some passages are dəvarim she-bi-qdushah, passages that require public communal prayer. Most famous among these are the Qaddish, Barkhu, and Qədushah. But people are not always able to pray in a community! In liturgical history both ancient and modern many different tashlumim (replacements) for these texts when praying individually have been suggested. The following is the Qədushah d-Yotser for an individual from Seder Rav ȝAmram, the oldest known full siddur. Much of the content is from the hekhalot literature or the Gemara, often demonstrating girsaot not otherwise known. . . .

In Jewish liturgy, some passages are dəvarim she-bi-qdushah, passages that require public communal prayer. Most famous among these are the Qaddish, Barkhu, and Qədushah. But people are not always able to pray in a community! In liturgical history both ancient and modern many different tashlumim (replacements) for these texts when praying individually have been suggested. The following is the Barkhu for an individual from Seder Rav ȝAmram, the oldest known full siddur. Much of the content is from the hekhalot literature or the Gemara, often demonstrating girsaot not otherwise known. . . .

In Jewish liturgy, some passages are dəvarim she-bi-qdushah, passages that require public communal prayer. Most famous among these are the Qaddish, Barkhu, and Qədushah. But people are not always able to pray in a community! In liturgical history both ancient and modern many different tashlumim (replacements) for these texts when praying individually have been suggested. The following is the Half Qaddish before Barkhu for an individual from Seder Rav ȝAmram, the oldest known full siddur. Much of the content is from the hekhalot literature or the Gemara, often demonstrating girsaot not otherwise known. . . .

This piyyut, “Ḥanaiah, Mishael, and Azariah,” was originally written to be recited as an introduction to the targum of the Second Commandment, the prohibition on worshiping other gods. It is a dispute-poem retelling the story of Ḥanaiah, Mishael, and Azariah, the three “holy children” of Daniel chapter 3 who would rather be thrown into an oven than worship an idol. It’s an intricate multi-part acrostic that I absolutely love. (I also am partially convinced it may be influenced by the apocryphal “Song of the Three Holy Children,” if not in context then in the idea of an extensive poem related to their story.) Since the original poem’s acrostic only goes halfway through the alphabet, the great Meir bar Isaac Nehorai of Orleans wrote a continuation that is also included here. . . .

One of many variants of this notorious work, the Sefer Toldot Yeshu is an irreverent retelling? a bitter deconstruction? a mocking parody? of the Christian narrative of the birth, life, and death of Jesus of Nazareth. Taking its general structure from the gospels, it coöpts and alters it to make the main character look like a petty, vindictive sorcerer, his disciples into either sectarian liars or loyal rabbinic plants, and his followers into easily duped fools. Toldot Yeshu was a very popular work in medieval times, and you can tell — this sort of a text was certainly written by someone whose primary relationship with Christians was fear. It’s the bitter invective of an oppressed people without power for themselves, the dirty laundry that two thousand years of murder leaves behind. It’s also, just, like unspeakably, hilariously crude. Have a garlicky Nittel, everyone! . . .

The Words of Gad the Augur is a lost work mentioned in I Chronicles 29:29. It is also an apocryphal Hebrew work of fourteen chapters, attributed to the Jews of Cochin in India. Most famous for its unique verse for the letter נ (nūn) in its variant of Psalms 145, this text also features multiple unique midrashim, reworked Biblical texts, and Hebrew forms and names not found elsewhere. . . .

The “angels on all sides” formula included with the Bedtime Shema service in many contemporary siddurim. . . .

The origin story of Lilith as told in the Alphabet of ben Sira. . . .

Azalat Yokheved is part of a whole genre of midrashic works suggesting Yokheved lived to see her son die — a concept even found in the Ethiopian literature. With repeated refrains, it emphasizes the desperate search of a mother trying to find her son, retracing all her steps and desperately asking everyone she can. But just as Moshe’s journey to the Promised Land ends without a conclusion, so too Yokheved never finds her Moshe. It’s been translated preserving monorhyme scheme. Taken from Sokoloff and Yahalom’s Jewish Palestinian Aramaic Poetry from Late Antiquity (2018), it is presented here vocalized with an original translation. . . .

Azalat Bekhita, is probably incomplete, extending only to ḥeth in known manuscripts. It features multiple people, places, and things important in Moshe’s life taking turns to eulogize him. It’s been translated preserving the acrostic and monorhyme scheme. Taken from Sokoloff and Yahalom’s Jewish Palestinian Aramaic Poetry from Late Antiquity (2018), it is presented here vocalized with an original translation. . . .

Amar Kiris l-Moshe, is a midrashic narrative of Moshe going to Adam to ask why he cursed humanity with death. It’s been translated preserving the acrostic and monorhyme scheme. Taken from Sokoloff and Yahalom’s “Jewish Palestinian Aramaic Poetry from Late Antiquity,” it is presented here vocalized with an original translation. . . .

The piyyut El Adon in its nusaḥ Ashkenaz variation set side-to-side with an acrostic alphabetic translation in English. . . .

The piyyut, El Adon, in Hebrew with an interpretive “praying translation” by Rabbi Zalman Schachter-Shalom, z”l. . . .

The piyyut, El Adon, in Hebrew with an English translation. . . .

This piyyut, Man K’vatakh (Who is Like You), the seventh in a series of Aramaic piyyutim from the seventh day of Pesaḥ, is meant to be recited as an introduction to the Targum of the verse that includes “Mi Khamokha.” The English translation preserves the Hebrew acrostic of the Aramaic. . . .

This piyyut, Amar Oyev (The Enemy Said), the sixth in a series of Aramaic piyyutim from the seventh day of Pesaḥ, is meant to be recited as an introduction to the targum of Exodus 15, verse 9. . . .

‘Ad Ana Bikhya B’Tsiyon, is one of the oldest qinot of the cycle, dating to the period before rhyme schemes were the norm for Hebrew poetry. It describes the heavenly luminaries themselves as sympathizing with and lamenting for Israel. It goes through the entire zodiac, beginning with Ares and ending with Pisces. It is traditional to stand and recite the last few lines aloud before transitioning into the Ḳedusha d’Sidra. . . .

Many communities recite a series of poems interwoven with the Amidah on Purim. These poems, known as the “krovets,” were written by Elazar b. Rabbi Kalir, the greatest of the early paytanim. But lesser known than the krovets for Purim are the krovets for Tisha b’Av, written as well by Elazar b. Rabbi Kalir. A fine example of Elazar’s intricate poetry, the krovets for Tisha b’Av is rife with Biblical citations, finally culminating with the prayer for Jerusalem. Each stanza begins with five tightly rhymed lines beginning with a constant א followed by a quintuple half-acrostic on the second letter, then a poetic volta on the word אֵיכָה, followed by a Biblical citation, a verse starting with the last word in the citation, a letter from Elazar’s name, and a final Biblical citation. The krovets for Tisha b’Av is meant to be part of the morning service, tied into the cantorial repetition for Tisha b’Av. . . .

This translation of “Adonai boker e’erokh lekha” by Rabbi David Aaron de Sola of a piyyut by an unknown paytan was first published in his Ancient Melodies of the Spanish and Portuguese Jews (1857). . . .

This piyyut, Tanun Shvaḥeih (Tell the Praise), the eighth in a series of Aramaic piyyutim from the seventh day of Pesaḥ, is meant to be recited as an introduction to the Targum of Exodus 15:18, the famous verse “Adonai yimlokh l-‘olam va-‘ed.” The English translation preserves the Hebrew acrostic of the Aramaic. . . .

“Alelai Li” is a ḳinah recited on the morning of Tisha bAv. It was written by HaKalir around the 7th century. According to the Koren Mesorat HaRav Kinot, it is number 17 of 50. The title is the refrain of the poem and is an onomatopoeic whimper (try saying it aloud, focusing on the alliteration). It is difficult to translate the opening word “im” which means “if” or “should”. This is an allusion to Job 10:15, “If I have done evil, then woe unto me.” I have decided to translate the ḳinah not in the conditional tense (which would render “If these horrible things happened, then woe is me!”) but as a lament upon memory; however, the former would be a more accurate (if not more awkward in English) translation. Adding to the awkwardness of the poem’s language is the feminine conditional verb that each line has after the word “im”. I have maintained this strange verb tense and placement in my translation by using the English progressive tense. The ḳinah ends with a collection in lines in a different meter suggesting that the Holy One (and the paytan himself) is angered that the Jewish people announce their sufferings but not their transgressions. . . .

The qinah, Eikh T’naḥamuni Hevel, in Hebrew with an English translation. . . .

Az Bahalokh Yirmiyahu is a kinah, “based on Eikhah Rabati Petikhta 24, in which Jeremiah says to God: “I am like a father who prepared to take his only son to be married, and the son tragically died under the wedding canopy. Do you not feel any pain for me or for my son?” God responds: “Go and rouse Abraham, Isaac, Jacob and Moses from their graves, for they know how to cry…” (Daniel Goldschmidt, Seder Kinot le-Tisha b’Av, Jerusalem, 1972, 98). . . .

This anonymously authored ḳinah (קינה, song of “lamentation”) begins with the line “אוֹי נָא לָֽנוּ כִּי חָטָֽאנוּ” (oy na lanu ki ḥatanu, “Woe—alas—unto us, for we have sinned”). Although the ancient Roman Jewish historian Flavius Josephus blames the Roman Empire for the destruction of the Jewish Temple in Jerusalem in 70 CE—and Roman art even celebrates the Roman capture of the Temple’s candelabrum—this ḳinah suggests that the destruction of Jerusalem was, at least partially, the result of Jewish discord. The ḳinah, which was long part of the Romanian prayer service for Tish’ah b’Av, appears in few other traditional prayerbooks for Tish’ah b’Av. It seems that the author of this ḳinah was El’azar ben Kallir (ca. 570–640 CE), who composed approximately half of the kinot most commonly inserted into contemporary Tish’ah b’Av prayerbooks that include the 40-odd most common kinot (קינות, plural of ḳinah) Jews sang throughout Europe during much of the early modern period. The author did not sign their name but left us with an alphabetical acrostic listing of often-concrete reasons to mourn today. . . .

The poetic genre known as ḳerovot, brief poems woven throughout the repetition of the weekday Amidah, is nowadays most closely associated with Elazar biRabbi Qallir’s Purim “Qrovetz“, a majestically interwoven piece of piyyut if ever there was one. But there are many other ḳerovot that have historically been recited, and this one is by the same author! The weekday qerovot cycle for Ḥanukkah, retelling the story of the Greek oppression using intricate poetic language. Included within is a qedushtah that instructs us on some of the halakhic requirements for the Ḥanukkah lights. . . .

The piyyut, Omets G’vurotekha by Elazar ha-Qalir, in its Latin translation by Johann Stephan Rittangel. . . .

Qallir’s reshut for the Ṭal service on the first day of Pesaḥ. Also included is an acrostic English translation, as well as the catena of verses found in manuscripts but missing from most modern printings . . .

The Təʾəzazä Sänbät, or the Commandments of the Sabbath, is a unique and fascinatingly eclectic work, combining Enochic and aggadic material with an almost kabbalistic personification of Shabbat, and influence from Islamic and Christian texts. Attributed to Abba Ṣabra, a famed 15th-century convert to Judaism, it is a compilation of texts meant to be studied and considered on Shabbat, alongside unique and striking visualizations of divine cosmology, heaven and hell, and midrashim found nowhere else. . . .

In many communities, the practice of Yaḥats, or breaking the matsah before maggid, is done with liturgical and ritual additions. The additions included here are one practice out of many variants as found in the practice of Djerba, the island off the coast of Tunisia. . . .

An alphabetical acrostic piyyut celebrating the victory of Esther and Mordekhai over the forces of Haman. . . .

This song is performed in honor of the Ḥatan Bereshit – the person who reads the first aliya of the torah, which begins Bereshit Bara. These words – Bereshit Bara – are repeated throughout the poem. The poem is similar in structure and meter to Kelil Yofi, which is performed in honor of the Hatan Torah, the person who reads the last aliya of the Torah, which begins Vaya’al Moshe. . . .