“Aryeh Shâăg” is the second reshut offered before Barukh sheAmar at the outset of the Zemirot (preceding Shaḥarit) on Shabbat Ḥazon — the final shabbat before 9 Av. It is the second reshut among the reshuyot in the Old Sefaradi Tiqun for Shabbat Ḥazon.

“Éikh Mishkenai Elyōn” is the first reshut offered before Nishmat at the outset of Shaḥarit (concluding the Zemirot). It is the third reshut among the reshuyot in the Old Sefaradi Tiqun for Shabbat Ḥazon — the final shabbat before 9 Av.

“Eftaḥ Pi le-Hodot” is the first reshut offered before Barukh sheAmar at the outset of the Zemirot (preceding Shaḥarit) on Shabbat Ḥazon — the final shabbat before 9 Av. It is the first reshut among the reshuyot in the Old Sefaradi Tiqun for Shabbat Ḥazon.

“Boré ‘ad Anah” is the second reshut offered before the Torah service following Shaḥarit. It is the tenth reshut among the reshuyot in the Old Sefaradi Tiqun for Shabbat Ḥazon — the final shabbat before 9 Av.

An ofan (a piyyut inserted into the Qedusha d’Yotser) recited in the eastern Ashkenazi Minhag Polin rite for Shabbat haGadol. Signed “Benjamin,” Davidson ascribes it to the great paytan R. Binyamin bar Zeraḥ, possibly as part of the same poetic cycle as Itti MiLvanon (his yotser for the same day).

The Minhag Ashkenaz (Western Ashkenazi) yotser (piyyut inserted into the beginning of the first blessing of the Shema service) for Shabbat haGadol, by Binyamin bar Zeraḥ. Also recited by some eastern Ashkenazim, although not as commonly as Aamir Mistater (the standard in Minhag Polin). Translated here with preserved acrostic and rhyme scheme. This piyyut uses the language of Song of Songs to retell the story of the exodus via the language of a romantic relationship.

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.

The Minhag Polin (Eastern Ashkenazi) yotser (piyyut inserted into the beginning of the first blessing of the Shema service) for Shabbat haGadol, by the Sefaradi sage and paytan Joseph ibn Abitur. Translated with preserved acrostic and rhyme scheme. This piyyut juxtaposes the seven days of creation with the miracles of the Exodus as well as the promised future salvation in a three-by-three structure.

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 beautiful piyyut of unknown authorship is recited in most Sephardic, Mizrahi and Yemenite traditions on Tisha B’ab at Minḥah. In its stanzas, rich and replete with biblical references (as is particularly common in Sephardic Piyyut), God speaks to Jerusalem and promises to comfort her, and comfort and redeem her people.

Traditional Ashkenazi practice entailed the recitation of a large number of seliḥot piyyutim in every single one of the Yom Kippur ‘amidot. In many Ashkenazi communities today, these are (excepting Ma’ariv and Ne’ilah) skipped on account of time. But this has always felt like a great shame to me, because seliḥot are, in a sense, the theological and liturgical core of the Yom Kippur practice. So a while back I made a bunch of spreadsheets to compare all the attested Yom Kippur seliḥot rites as listed in Goldschmidt’s maḥzor, and designed an abbreviated cycle of seliḥot for Shaḥarit, Musaf, and Minḥah. Each cycle features two regular seliḥot, one ‘aqedah (a retelling of the binding of Isaac), and one pizmon (a final seliḥah with a repeated refrain, sung communally), for a total of four seliḥot and five repetitions of the thirteen attributes. This is the first result of this process, for Shaḥarit. Musaf and Minḥah selections will arrive eventually, albeit probably not this year.

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 piyyut, Amar Oyev (The Enemy Said), the sixth in a series of Aramaic piyyutim from the seventh day of Pesaḥ, is meant to be recited as an introduction to the targum of Exodus 15, verse 9.