This is a pizmon for Shabbat Shirah (Parashat B’Shalaḥ) by an unknown author. The text is as transcribed from the pizmonim included in the siddur משמרת הקדש: קול שומר שבת Mishmeret haQodesh: Qol Shomer Shabbat (Pisa 1821), p. 117. . . .

This somewhat crude Purim song is sung in many variants in the Moroccan and Gibraltar Sephardic communities, often to the tune of the popular Purim hymn “Akh Ze Hayom Kiviti.” . . .

This is a faithful transcription of the text of the medieval Megillat Yehudith (the Scroll of Judith), not to be confused with the deutero-canonical Book of Judith, authored in Antiquity. We have further set this text side-by-side with the English translation made by Susan Weingarten, and vocalized and cantillated the Hebrew so that it may be chanted. . . .

This is an English translation of Maoz Tsur published by The Hebrew Standard for their 1893 Ḥanukkah issue (vol. 29, no. 12, New York, Friday, 8 December 1893 — 29 Kislev 5654). The Hebrew Standard was one of the biggest English-language Jewish papers in America around the turn of the twentieth century, generally taking a more traditionalist line than the Reform papers and a more moderate line than the leftist ones. This translation, simply titled “Chanukah”, unfortunately goes unattributed in the pages of The Hebrew Standard. The translation follows an ABABCCDD rhyme scheme (for those unfamiliar with rhyme scheme notation, this is the same rhyme scheme as “The Star-Spangled Banner“), unlike the Hebrew’s ABABBBccB. . . .

This Purim song, popular among the Sephardic and Italki communities of Livorno, can be sung to the melody of “Akh, Zeh Hayom Kiviti.” Like a lot of Italian Purim content, a large portion of it is listing different desserts. . . .

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. . . .

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. . . .

A blessing before the recitation of psalms, used in the old Eretz Yisrael rite as found in the Cairo Geniza. Since its structure is similar to the blessing before the haftara which is often cantillated, I have taken the liberty of adding psalmodic cantillation to the text. . . .

The custom of reciting BaMeh Madliqin, the second chapter of Mishnah Shabbat, on Friday nights probably originated as an anti-Karaite polemic. While the Karaites were opposed to any use of fire on Shabbat, rabbinic Jews kindle lights before Shabbat, and the recitation of BaMeh Madliqin — the laws of Shabbat lights — emphasized this distinction. One of the best firsthand sources we have for this is the following introductory blessing from the Cairo Genizah (T-S NS 299.150 verso) for the recitation of BaMeh Madliqin, first published by Naftali Wieder in this article. This blessing emphasizes the continuity of the Torah both written and oral from Sinai to the sages and elders. . . .

This piyyut, Izel Moshe (Arise, Moses), the fifth in a series of Aramaic piyyutim from the seventh day of Pesaḥ, is meant to be recited after the second verse of the song proper, as an elaboration on God’s strength. The English translation preserves the Hebrew acrostic of the original. . . .

The traditional Ashkenazi qerovot added to the Musaf repetition for Shabbat Sheqalim, alongside a new gender-neutral translation . . .

A Byzantine-era Aramaic piyyut for Purim, perhaps written as an introduction to the Megillah reading. It tells the narrative of the Jewish people from Abraham to the final redemption, focusing on the foes who sought to destroy us and their inevitable failure to do so. Uniquely among early-medieval poems, this one actively mentions the Romans (read: Christians) and Saracens (read: Muslims) and prays for their downfall in non-coded language. This translation loosely preserves the couplet rhyme scheme, as well as the alphabetical acrostic — perhaps with a phonetic punning reference to the name “Shlomo” at the end. . . .

This is a reconstruction of a liturgy for a Birkat haMazon for Ḥanukkah witnessed in multiple Cairo Geniza manuscripts, including Cambridge, CUL: T-S H4.13; T-S H6.37; T-S 8H10.14; T-S NS 328.56; T-S NS 328.61; T-S AS 101.293; New York, JTS: ENA 2885.7; Oxford: MS heb. e.71/27 – MS heb. e.71/32; St. Peterburg: Yevr. III B 135. . . .

This is a reconstruction of a liturgy for a Birkat haMazon for Purim witnessed in the Cairo Geniza fragment T-S H6.37 (page 1, recto and verso)‬. . . .

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

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. . . .

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. . . .

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. . . .