According to Joseph Judah Chorny’s On the Caucasian Jews, this acrostic piyyuṭ was customarily used as an epithalion before a wedding. He writes, “Before morning light, the bride is led to the groom’s house accompanied by many women and men, all carrying lit wax candles in their hands, and singing this song along the way.” Variants of this piyyut are found throughout the greater Sephardic world, generally in an abbreviated and slightly altered form. In Syria it is sung during the haqafot for Simḥat Torah, while in Livorno Sephardic practice (and subsequently in most Eastern Sephardic maḥzorim) it is a Shavu’ot piyyut.

While the most famous ketubah-poem for Shavuot, still recited in Sephardic communities the world over, is by R. Yisrael Najara, many others have been written over the years. This one was written in the 16th century by Saadia ben Yosef ha-Levi. It is a marriage contract between the groom (Israel) and the bride (Torah).

In many eastern Sephardic and Mizraḥi communities, there is a custom that a poetic “ketubah,” or marriage-contract, is recited before the Torah service on Shavuot. This custom, based on the midrashic idea that the Torah is the ketubah for the marriage between the bride Israel and the groom God, is beloved by the ḳabbalists. By far the most commonly used Shavuot ketubah is that of the great paytan and meḳubal Yisrael ben Moshe Najara, who wrote the following some time in the sixteenth century. This is a new translation of Najara’s poem.

A piyyuṭ sung by the Jews of Algiers on Shavu’ot and Simḥat Torah (and by some Moroccans for baqashot on Parashat Toldot). Yayin Tov Ratov is a love song from the perspective of God that uses a lot of language from Song of Songs. Wine and song, in this case, are both metaphors for the Torah. Of unknown origin, the acrostic spells out the name יצחק, although I can confirm that it wasn’t me who wrote it.

Ana is a poem for the first commandment, that discusses all that God did for the ancestors.

“Ar’a Raqda,” a piyyut read directly before the Ten Commandments in the Targum, uses wedding imagery and language from the Shir haShirim to paint Sinai as a ḥuppah.

This meorah, by R. Avraham bar Shmuel of Speyer (the elder brother of R. Yehuda heḤasid and a great scholar in his own right) is recited on Shabbat Naso. This is usually after Shavuot, but sometimes (in 2025, for instance) it is before. This meorah is a poetic interpretation of the Priestly Blessing, and a plea for vengeance against the antisemitic nations. As a meorah, it is recited prior to the final line of the guf and the ḥatima of the Yotser Or blessing.

This geulah piyyut, by R. Yehuda heḤasid, is, similar to the prior zulat, a response to the massacres of the First Crusade. It specifically focuses, in the way only a maverick like heḤasid could, on holding God to account for breach of covenant, and calls out both Christians and — on a much rarer theme — Muslims for their slaughter of Jews during the Crusades. As a geulah, it is recited right before concluding berakha of the Emet blessing and the Amidah.

This zulat piyyut, by R. Shmuel bar Yehuda (fl. 12th c.), is a keening cry in response to the traumatic First Crusade Rhineland massacres, known as the Gzerot TaTN”O in Hebrew, specifically focusing on the 3 Sivan massacre and martyrdoms in Mainz. The massacres of the Gzerot TaTN”O were so traumatic to Ashkenazi Jewry that to this day, the Av haRaḥamim prayer for martyrs, usually elided on Shabbat Mevorkhim, is not elided on Shabbat Mevorkhim Iyar or Sivan. As a zulat, it is recited at the end of the “Emet v-Emuna” paragraph. Generally the second half of the paragraph is altered slightly when a zulat is inserted. In this case, the alteration, according to the old Nusaḥ Polin, is included.

A meorah — a piyyuṭ to be inserted before the ḥatima of the first blessing of the Shema’ — by the great payṭan Yehuda haLevi. This piyyuṭ was traditionally recited in eastern Ashkenazi communities on Shabbat Yitro and VaEtḥanan, the two Shabbatot where the Ten Commandments are read. Some also included it on the first day of Shavuot for the same reason.

This ahavah piyyut, likely by the paytan Yitsḥaq ben Reuven Albargeloni (the acrostic signature is ambiguous), is a longing love song between Israel, the “amazing one,” and God, the “Mighty One.” As an ahavah, it is recited prior to the final line of the guf and the ḥatima of the Ahavah Rabba blessing.

The maaravot-cycle of piyyutim for the first night of Shavuot, by Joseph ben Samuel Bonfils. In normative maaravot fashion, it is one extended cycle with an overarching structure (the first words of each of the Ten Commandments) throughout the whole of the kriat shema, with additional piyyutim incorporated into the first blessing after the shema.

A “bikkur” piyyut traditionally added at the end of Hashkivenu for Shavˁuot in the Old French (and Maḥzor Vitry) and Romaniote rites. From the acrostic we know the author was named Yosef ben Yaˁakov. Other than that we know very little about this poem’s origin and age, although its structure fits with the early Ashkenazi piyyut oeuvre.

This yotser, by the great eleventh-century payṭan R. Binyamin bar Zeraḥ, goes through the entire alphabet with which the Torah was written, giving midrashic and mystical interpretations of each letter. As a yotser, it is recited immediately after the petiḥah of the Yotser Or blessing.

This anonymous ofan, also recited on the second day of Shavuot in some communities, uses alliteration to describe the many hosts of angels descending upon Sinai in awe and reverence as the Torah was given. The translation preserves the alliteration over the alphabet, seeing as the ofan in this form doesn’t include the entire alphabet either. As an ofan, it is recited within the Ḳedusha d-Yotser, between the verses of Isaiah and Ezekiel (included here). The ofan is recited on the second day of Shavuot in some communities.

A Birkat haMazon for Shavuot presenting an alphabetic acrostic from a manuscript preserved in the Cairo Geniza.

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.

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.