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A singable translation of Maoz Tsur by the great ḥakham Frederick de Sola Mendes, here transcribed from the Union Hymnal (CCAR 1914), hymn 190. The translation largely reflects the Hebrew, omitting two verses — the final (and according to some, last added) verse, and the fourth verse about Purim and Haman.
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| Source (Hebrew) | Translation (English) |
|---|---|
מָעוֹז צוּר יְשׁוּעָתִי לְךָ נָאֶה לְשַׁבֵּֽחַ תִּכּוֹן בֵּית תְּפִלָּתִ וְשָׁם תּוֹדָה נְזַבֵּֽחַ לְעֵת תָּכִין מַטְבֵּֽח מִצָּר הַמְנַבֵּֽחַ אָז אֶגְמֹר בְּשִׁיר מִזְמוֹ חֲנֻכַּת הַמִּזְבֵּֽחַ׃ |
Fortress-rock, my God, my aid! To Thee my praises shall ascend; Our Guardian in the days of yore, On Israel bid Thy grace descend. The truth our people’s seers have known, All men, awak’ning then shall own; Thy Law of Love, all laws above, Our time-long sorrows full shall end. |
רָעוֹת שָׂבְעָה נַפְשִׁי בְּיָגוֹן כֹּחִי כָּלָה חַיַּי מֵרְרוּ בְקֹשִׁי בְּשִׁעְבּוּד מַלְכוּת עֶגְלָה וּבְיָדוֹ הַגְּדוֹלָה הוֹצִיא אֶת־הַסְּגֻלָּה חֵיל פַּרְעֹה וְכׇל־זַרְעוֹ יָרְדוּ כְּאֶֽבֶן בִּמְצוּלָה׃ |
My soul is wearied by the woe The ages rained upon my head; From early days when Egypt’s hate Sustained me on “affliction’s bread.” But from Thy great redeeming Hand, The blow fell by the Red Sea’s strand; With pomp and boast, the Pharaoh’s host Was hurled deep into ocean’s bed. |
דְּבִיר קׇדְשׁוֹ הֱבִיאַֽנִי וְגַם שָׁם לֹא שָׁקַֽטְתִּי וּבָא נוֹגֵשׂ וְהִגְלַֽנִי כִּי זָרִים עָבַֽדְתִּי וְיֵין רַעַל מָסַֽכְתִּי כִּמְעַט שֶׁעָבַֽרְתִּי קֵץ בָּבֶל זְרֻבָּבֶל לְקֵץ שִׁבְעִים נוֹשַֽׁעְתִּי׃ |
Twas then Thou broughtest me at length To Zion’s rocky temple-hill; Alas, I was not faithful there, For other gods I worshiped still! The bitter cup an exile sees, I drained unto its lowest lees, But hopeful dreams by Babel’s streams Came true in edicts of Thy will! |
יְוָנִים נִקְבְּצוּ עָלַי אֲזַי בִּימֵי חַשְׁמַנִּים וּפָרְצוּ חוֹמוֹת מִגְדָּלַי וְטִמְּאוּ כׇּל־הַשְּׁמָנִים וּמִנּוֹתַר קַנְקַנִּים נַעֲשָׂה נֵס לַשּׁוֹשַׁנִּים בְּנֵי בִינָה יְמֵי שְׁמוֹנָה קָבְעוּ שִׁיר וּרְנָנִים׃ |
The Syrian last his anger spent Upon my poor defenseless head. My shrine defiled, my Law proscribed, Idolatry set up instead. Then brave arose the Maccabee Who foes beat off most gloriously, And these glad days attest their praise Who for Thy truth so nobly bled! |
Due to the stanza removed in this variation, the acrostic signature reads מרדי rather than מרדכי.
Source
“מָעוֹז צוּר | Maoz Tsur (trans. by Frederick de Sola Mendes 1914)” is shared through the Open Siddur Project with a Creative Commons Public Domain Dedication 1.0 Universal license.
Isaac Gantwerk Mayer (transcription & naqdanut)
Frederick de Sola Mendes
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