An original version of Ḥad Gadya which has been fully Aramaicized, with all the Hebrew words removed and the verbs conjugated properly.

A Ladino translation of Brikh Shmei d’Marei Alma.

“Wenn man die Gesetzrolle aus der heiligen Lade nimmt” was translated/adapted from the prayer “Brikh Shmeih d’Marei Alma” (Zohar II 206a) by Yehoshua Heshil Miro and published in his anthology of teḥinot, בית יעקב (Beit Yaaqov) Allgemeines Gebetbuch für gebildete Frauen mosaicher Religion. The translation appears in the 1829 edition, תחנות Teḥinot ein Gebetbuch für gebildete Frauenzimmer mosaicher Religion as teḥinah №15 on pp. 19-20. In the 1835 and 1842 editions, it also appears as teḥinah №15 on pp. 22-23.

The haftarah for the second day of Shavuot, Ḥabakkuk 2:20-3:19, interspersed with a cantillated text of the Targum Yonatan ben Uzziel. Since Targum Yonatan is a bit more drash-heavy than Targum Onkelos, it is translated separately as well. The haftarah reading includes the piyyut Yetsiv Pitgam, with an acrostic rhyming translation of the poem, with the second-to-last verse restored to its rightful place, as well as a concluding paragraph for the meturgeman to recite, as found in the Maḥzor Vitry.

The Prayer of Azariah and the Song of the Three Holy Children, one of the apocryphal Additions to Daniel, is an interpolation into the third chapter of the book of Daniel. The editor has here included a new vocalized and cantillated edition of the Aramaic text preserved in the 12th century Divrei Yeraḥmiel (Oxford Bodleian Heb d.11 transcribed by Rabbi Dr. Moses Gaster). The language of this passage is an odd synthesis of Targumic, pseudo-Biblical Aramaic, and even some Syriac forms, so the editor’s vocalization is aiming for a happy medium of all the possibilities.

The full qedushtaot and “seder” azhara for Shabbat haGadol, largely by the great eleventh-century paytan R. Yosef Bonfils (with one additional rahit by Yannai), including all the catenae of verses and repeated refrains often skipped in Ashkenazi practice. Alphabetical texts are translated with alphabetical acrostics.

This is the targumic Aramaic piyyut, Aqdamut Milin by Rabbi Meir ben Yitsḥaq Nehorai of Orléans, with a Yiddish translation from 1694. The translation is appended to the first known printing of the Maaséh Aqdamut (Fürth 1694). This legendary story served as a frame tale for the recitation of the piyyut at the outset of the reading of the Decalogue on Shavuot. The transcription is based on an earlier transcription of the Fürth 1694 printing published by Isaac Rivkind in “די היסטאָרישע אַלעגאָריע פון ר׳ מאיר שַ״ץ” (“The Historical Allegory of Rabbi Meir, shatz [Shaliaḥ Tsibur]”) the first chapter in Filologishe shriftn vol. 3 (1929), pp. 1-42. (This translation of the Aqdamut appears on pages/numbered columns 36-40.)

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.

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.

This piyyut, “Itgabar,” was originally written as an introduction to the sixth commandment, the commandment of not murdering. It is a poetic retelling of the death of Joab in I Kings 2:28-34. Joab, the leader of David’s armies, was a notoriously violent man, the slaughterer of Abner and Amasa. He died in a correspondingly violent way, struck down by Benaiah son of Jehoiada within the Tabernacle itself. Surprisingly enough, this poem frames Solomon as an unjust and cruel ruler, treating Joab’s death as a tragedy rather than the quid-pro-quo consequence it is portrayed as in Kings. In this location, it almost goes so far as to calling Solomon himself a murderer.

This piyyut, “Amar Yitsḥaq,” was originally written as an introduction to the fifth commandment, the commandment of honoring your father and mother. In the eyes of the payṭan, the quintessential example of honoring your father is an incredibly morbid one — Isaac, encouraging his father to go through with it on the altar and begging him to strike true, so that the sacrifice isn’t rendered unfit! It incorporates midrashic narratives about Isaac’s total willingness to go through with the sacrifice, as well as his longing for his mother in the process. To our modern eyes it is quite a disturbing work! But it’s worth remembering that there were many cases in medieval Europe of Jewish parents so desperate and terrified on account of the Crusades that they killed their own children rather than have them submit to baptism. Perhaps this poem provided those who heard such horrific stories some comfort.

This piyyut, “Joseph Overpowered,” was originally written in the Byzantine era as an introduction to the seventh commandment, the commandment against adultery. It tells a midrashic elaboration of the story of Potiphar’s wife’s attempt and failure to seduce Joseph. It’s honestly a bit racier than one would expect from a liturgical text, with quite a few double entendres on the topic of sexuality. Like the two prior piyyutim — Amar Yitzḥak and Itgabar — it begins in medias res.

This is Ha Laḥma Anya in Aramaic with translations in Ladino and English, from the Passover Seder Haggadah of Rabbi Emily Aviva Kapor-Mater, Haggadah Shir Geulah (2015, v.2.1/2016).

The Yiddish translation of the Aramaic piyyut “Arkin” is appended to the first known printing of the Maaséh Aqdamut (Fürth 1694). The transcription is based on an earlier transcription of the Fürth 1694 printing published by Isaac Rivkind in “די היסטאָרישע אַלעגאָריע פון ר׳ מאיר שַ״ץ” (“The Historical Allegory of Rabbi Meir, shatz [Shaliaḥ Tsibur]”) the first chapter in Filologishe shriftn vol. 3 (1929), pp. 1-42. (This translation of the Aqdamut appears on pages/numbered columns 40-42.)

“Arkin” is one of two Aramaic piyyutim read by some Ashkenazi communities at the beginning of the Torah reading on the first day of Shavuot (the other being the Aqdamut). The piyyut makes reference to an important legend featuring Mosheh experiencing an ascent in which he must wrest the Torah from angelic entities that are averse to parting with it, or loathe to giving it up, to humanity. Introducing the piyyut she translated in Jewish Aramaic Poetry from Late Antiquity (Brill: 2018), Dr. Laura Lieber writes, “This [Shavuot] poem dramatizes neither the content of revelation, as other poems here do, nor the season of its giving, as the story of Ruth does. Instead, our poet imagines God’s summoning of Moses to the heavens to receive the Torah atop Mount Sinai. God’s voice is most prominent here, although the angels also speak; Moses, however, keeps silent, and the poet depicts him with anything but aggression and bravado. The poet crafts a scene that recreates the tension of the imagined encounter: God repeatedly reassures Moses, who fears angelic aggression, but the angels also express fear of Moses, who is here depicted as having horns, which God encourages Moses to use in self-defense.”

A unique Nusaḥ Erets Yisrael variant of the Qaddish found in the Cairo Geniza, most well known for including the names of the leading rabbis of the community in its text.

The critical text of Megillat Antiokhus in its original Aramaic, prepared by Menaḥem Tsvi Kaddari and translated into English by John C. Reeves.

The Megillat Antiochus was composed in Palestinian Aramaic sometime between the 2nd and 5th century CE, likely in the 2nd Century when the memory of the Bar Kochba revolt still simmered.. The scroll appears in a number of variations. The Aramaic text below follows the critical edition prepared by Menaḥem Tzvi Kaddari, and preserves his verse numbering. The English translation by Rabbi Joseph Adler (1936) follows the Hebrew translation in the middle column, the source of which is a medieval manuscript reprinted by Tzvi Filipowsky in 1851. Adler and Kaddari’s verse ordering loosely follows one another indicating variations in manuscripts. Where Aramaic is missing from Kaddari’s text, the Aramaic version from Adler’s work is included in parentheses. Adler also included a Yiddish translation which we hope will be fully transcribed (along with vocalized Hebrew text, a Hungarian translation, and perhaps even a Marathi translation from South India) for Ḥanukkah 5775 , G!d willing.

The mantra-like piyyut “Ēin k-Ēlohēinu,” a praise of God’s attributes and uniqueness featuring incremental repetition, is found in siddurim as far back as the siddur of Rav Amram, and may date back to the Hekhalot literature. Many versions of it have been compiled in different languages, most famously Flory Jagoda (zç”l)’s Judezmo variant “Non como muestro Dyo.” Here the editor has compiled traditional Yiddish and Ladino translations, as well as developed new Aramaic and Arabic translations for this piyyut. The post-piyyut verses used in both the Ashkenazi and Sephardic rites have been included.

Shmini Atseret is a strange festival. In some ways part of Sukkot, in some ways its own thing, it occupies an equivocal place in the yearly cycle. But one thing that is completely true: Shmini Atseret is on Pi Day. Well, Pi Approximation Day — the twenty-second day of the seventh month. Inspired by my friend and math enthusiast Aryeh Baruch (may he have a long life), I’ve compiled this altered form of the haftarah for Shmini Atseret in the diaspora, including the description of King Solomon’s “molten sea,” as well as an Aramaic “reshut” poem with a numeral acrostic of the first few digits of pi.