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The Confession, an excerpt from Kether Malkhut (Crown of Royalty) by Shlomo ibn Gabirol adapted by Elsie Davis

Contribute a translationAdaptation (English)
My God, I know that mine iniquity
Is heavier than my feeble words express,
And to recount my trespasses to Thee
Doth memory fail, for they are numberless.
Yet some do haunt my mind, but these, indeed,
Are as a drop of water from my sea
Of sin, whose roaring billows may recede,
And by confession, calm’d and silenced be.
O Thou in Heav’n, pray list, and pardon me.
Thy precepts have I scorn’d, Thy Law transgrese’d,
Rejecting from my wayward heart Thy word;
Slander I spake, and in my truant breast
Lurk’d vice indulgent, therefore have I err’d.
Falsehood and pride and violence combined
To dog my steps and lead them far astray;
When men have counsel ask’d, oft did I blind
Their eyes with fraud, and evil counsel say.
I have rebell’d, blasphemed, yea, scorn’d and lied;
I have revolted and perversely done;
I have betray’d and stiffneck’d did abide,
Defiant strove Thy just rebuke to shun.
How have my deeds been sinful, weak and vile,
My ways corrupt and errant from Thy path,
Daring Thy precepts with deluding wile,
To merge beneath the tempest of Thy wrath.
Though great the sorrows that o’erwhelm my brow,
These sorrows issue from Thy righteous hand
Where mercy ever dwelleth; hence I bow
And court the shaft that sped at Thy command.
My God, I mourn, for self-accusers rise:
“Thou hast Thy Maker grievously defied,
Hast acted graceless folly in His eyes
For mercies, when His judgment bade Him chide.”
Thou need’st no service at my humble hand,
Yet gav’st me life and bless’d my happy birth;
Thy spirit bade my budding soul expand,
To blossom on Thy fair and wondrous earth.
And Thou hast rear’d me with a father’s care,
Strengthen’d my limbs and nursed the tender child
Lull’d on my mother’s gentle bosom, where
Thine all-protecting wing and blessing smiled.
And when I grew and all erect could stand,
Thou did’st enfold me in Thy fostering arms
Guiding my tott’ring steps with Thy right hand
To manly strength, which scorneth all alarms.
The ways of wisdom did’st Thou then command
To shield my heart ’gainst sorrow and distress,
Conceal’d within the shadow of Thy hand,
When fear and wrath did all the land oppress.
How many an unseen danger have I pass’d!
Before the wound the balm is yet prepared;
A remedy before the spear is cast,
The foeman vanquish’d ere the war’s declared.
Heedless I placed my head ‘twixt lion’s teeth,
And thou to rescue me their jaws did’st break;
When sickness held me with her heel beneath,
Thy heav’nly balsam came for pity’s sake.
And when Thy judgment thunder’d in the storm
Thy favour arm’d Thy servant ’gainst its blow;
When death assail’d him in pale famine’s form,
Thy halo veil’d him in a saving glow.
When plenty reign’d my share of wealth I won,
But when I roused with provocation sore
Thy wrath, as doth a father to his son,
Thou did’st chastise, that I should sin no more.
Then unto Thee I cried in dire distress,
My soul immortal with Thee favour found,
Thy mercy shed in Thy benign excess
A perfect faith, within my heart, profound.
Among the foolish who blaspheme Thy name
With clamour loud, Thou hast not cast my lot;
“Mongst erring ones who ’gainst Thy word exclaim,
Thy laws deriding, number’d I am not.
Of visage fair are they, yet foul deceit
Lurketh like leprous spots deep sunk within;
Though, on the surface smiling ripples meet,
Beneath are billows wild, and black as sin:
A vessel, fill’d to brim with shame and woe,
Varnish’d with glitt’ring waters to allure,
Distill’d of malice, virtue’s direst foe
Its touch unclean, defilement to the pure.
I am unworthy of the saving love
Thou hast to me Thy servant ever shown,
So must I waft my song of praise above,
And unto Thee my gratitude make known.
My soul, Thy gift divine, was pure as light;
Alas! no more, my sin hath stain’d its crest.
I wrestled with the Yeẓer Ra[1] The evil imagination.  in might,
But all too weak I sank—yet not to rest.
Contrite, Thy saving pardon I entreat,
I feel Thy glory flood my yearning soul;
Vanquish’d proud sin is helpless at my feet,
And I, Thy servant, reach Thy radiant goal.

An adaptation in rhymed English verse of an excerpt of Shlomo ibn Gabirol’s Keter Malkhut Elsie Davis. First published in The Jewish Quarterly Review, Vol. 7, No. 3 (April 1895), pp. 461-464. The adaptation begins with section 34 of the piyyut. A closer translation was later made by Israel Zangwill and published in 1923.

Source(s)

The Confession (trans. Elsie Davis in The Reform Advocate, 17 September 1898)

 

Notes

Notes
1The evil imagination.

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