After the recitation of Shir haShirim — which, in some circles, is recited every Friday night — the kabbalists instituted a yehi ratzon, a petition to be recited in the merit of what was just read. In many communities, this petition is recited using the same melodies as the recitation of the scroll itself. As an extension of this custom, here I’ve added cantillation marks to the yehi ratzon after Shir haShirim. Included also is a recitation of the text following said cantillation marks. . . .

Adir Hu, a classic Pesaḥ song if ever there was one, is a part of Seder tables all over the planet. Its alphabetical list of God’s attributes, combined with its repeated pleas for a return to Jerusalem, make it a classic, to the point where the traditional German farewell greeting for Passover was not “chag sameach” or “gut yontef” but “bau gut” – build well. This interpretation, while not a direct translation by any means, has the same rhythmic pattern and alphabetical structure, giving a sense of the greatness of God. . . .

When the spring (Aviv) season arrives, a blessing is traditionally said when one is in view of at least two flowering fruit trees. In the northern hemisphere, it can be said anytime through the end of the month of Nissan (though it can still be said in Iyar). For those who live in the southern hemisphere, the blessing can be said during the month of Tishrei. . . .

Variations of the original three lines culminating with “…walk beside me…” first appear in high school yearbooks beginning in 1970. The earliest recorded mention we could find was in The Northern Light, the 1970 yearbook of North Attleboro High School, Massachusetts. In the Jewish world of the early to mid-1970s, a young Moshe Tanenbaum began transmitting the lines at Jewish summer camps. In 1979, as Uncle Moishy, Tanenbaum published a recording of the song under the title “v’Ohavta” (track A4 on The Adventures of Uncle Moishy and the Mitzvah Men, volume 2). . . .

This prayer for the country is found in the Siddur Sephat Emeth, which was published by the venerable Rödelheim publishing house in Frankfurt in 1938. This was probably the last siddur ever published in pre-Holocaust Germany. This prayer is full of pathos and yearning, and in a time of rising government-sponsored antisemitism worldwide it’s worth keeping in mind. . . .

“Óró sé do bheatha abhaile” is one of the most popular Irish rebel songs. Adapted from a folk song (with possible 18th century Jacobite origins), the most popular modern version, written by the poet and republical activist Pádraig Pearse and sung by the Irish Volunteers during the 1916 Easter Rising, is full of messianic and biblical imagery that makes it ripe for adaptation into a Hebrew piyyut. Presented here is “Hoy! Barukh Ha-Ba Ha-Bayta,” a Hebrew adaptation singable to the original melody. . . .

In Jewish liturgy, some passages are dəvarim she-bi-qdusha, passages that require public communal prayer. Most famous among these are the Qaddish, Barkhu, and Qədusha. But people are not always able to pray in a community! In liturgical history both ancient and modern many different tashlumim (replacements) for these texts when praying individually have been suggested. The following is a replacement for the Ḥatsi Ḳaddish before Barkhu that used to be found in many traditional Ashkenazi siddurim. . . .

In Jewish liturgy, some passages are dəvarim she-bi-qdusha, passages that require public communal prayer. Most famous among these are the Qaddish, Barkhu, and Qədusha. But people are not always able to pray in a community! In liturgical history both ancient and modern many different tashlumim (replacements) for these texts when praying individually have been suggested. The following is a replacement for the Barkhu of Shaḥarit that used to be found in many traditional Ashkenazi siddurim. . . .

In Jewish liturgy, some passages are dəvarim she-bi-qdusha, passages that require public communal prayer. Most famous among these are the Qaddish, Barkhu, and Qədusha. But people are not always able to pray in a community! In liturgical history both ancient and modern many different tashlumim (replacements) for these texts when praying individually have been suggested. The following is a replacement for the Qedushah of Shaḥarit that used to be found in many traditional Ashkenazi siddurim. . . .

In Jewish liturgy, some passages are dəvarim she-bi-qdusha, passages that require public communal prayer. Most famous among these are the Qaddish, Barkhu, and Qədusha. But people are not always able to pray in a community! In liturgical history both ancient and modern many different tashlumim (replacements) for these texts when praying individually have been suggested. The following is a replacement for the Qadish Shalem of Shaḥarit that used to be found in many traditional Ashkenazi siddurim. . . .

In Jewish liturgy, some passages are dəvarim she-bi-qdusha, passages that require public communal prayer. Most famous among these are the Qaddish, Barkhu, and Qədusha. But people are not always able to pray in a community! In liturgical history both ancient and modern many different tashlumim (replacements) for these texts when praying individually have been suggested. The following is a replacement for the Ḥatsi Qaddish of Minḥah that used to be found in many traditional Ashkenazi siddurim. . . .

In Jewish liturgy, some passages are dəvarim she-bi-qdusha, passages that require public communal prayer. Most famous among these are the Qaddish, Barkhu, and Qədusha. But people are not always able to pray in a community! In liturgical history both ancient and modern many different tashlumim (replacements) for these texts when praying individually have been suggested. The following is a replacement for the Qedushah of Minḥah that used to be found in many traditional Ashkenazi siddurim. . . .

In Jewish liturgy, some passages are dəvarim she-bi-qdusha, passages that require public communal prayer. Most famous among these are the Qaddish, Barkhu, and Qədusha. But people are not always able to pray in a community! In liturgical history both ancient and modern many different tashlumim (replacements) for these texts when praying individually have been suggested. The following is a replacement for the Barkhu of Arvit that used to be found in many traditional Ashkenazi siddurim. . . .

The African-American Christian spiritual adapted for a Pesaḥ song in Hebrew and English. . . .

Hälē Hälē yebärkewo (Praise, Praise, Bless the One) is the fourth prayer in this order of prayers for the morning of Sigd. . . .

Wäṣoru Tabotomu (They Carried Out Their Ark) is the first prayer in this order of prayers for the morning of Sigd. It is a prayer said upon the removal of the Orit from the synagogue ark. . . .

Wäy’ärgu Debre (And They Climbed the Mount) is the second prayer in this order of prayers for the morning of Sigd. It is the first prayer said upon arriving on the mountain, based on the ritual described in Neḥemyah 9. . . .

Mänabərätä betä Dawitə (Thrones of David’s House) is the sixth prayer in this order of prayers for the morning of Sigd. It is an ancient text inspired by and quoting Psalm 122, partially in Geʿez and partially in Agaw. . . .

Yitbärēk Egzi’äbḥer (Blessed be YHVH) is the third prayer in this order of prayers for the morning of Sigd. It is a morning blessing. . . .

Nəʽu nəsəgədə (Come, Let Us Bow) is the fifth prayer in this order of prayers for the morning of Sigd. . . .

This Western Yiddish alphabetical adaptation of Adir Hu is first found in the 1769 Selig Haggadah, under the name of “Baugesang” (meaning Building Song). It grew to be a beloved part of the Western Ashkenazi rite, to the point where the traditional German Jewish greeting after the Seder was “Bau gut,” or “build well!” . . .

The Seder ha-Tamid, a Provençal (Nusaḥ Comtat Venaissin) siddur published in Avignon in 1766, has liturgical additions for an amazing five different local festivals — one for Avignon, and two each for Carpentras and Cavaillon. I’m working on transcribing all of these, but to start, here’s an Al haNissim for the twenty-eighth of Shvat in Avignon. Written in rhymed prose, this text tells the story of a gentile who fell headfirst down a deep well near the synagogue, but successfully managed to flip himself over and wedged his feet in the walls. Even more miraculously, afterwards he declared that it was his own fault he fell in the pit! The Jews of the Comtat, an area under direct papal control at the time, were well aware of the tenuousness of their position, and were the man a talebearer then they could have faced a pogrom or exile. . . .

In Yemenite practice, directly after the four questions are recited the youngest literate person at the table reads a brief Judeo-Arabic passage, here transcribed per the Yemenite transliteration system (wherein gimel dagesh = j and qof = g) and translated into Arabic and Hebrew. Instructional notes say this passage is “for the benefit of women and toddlers,” the two main classes of people who would have not had access to Hebrew education at the time. . . .

One of the most prominent martyrs in the Chmielnicki massacres of 1648–1649 was the kabbalist and sage Yəḥiel Mikhel ben Eliezer ha-Kohen, known to posterity as the Martyr of Nemiryv. This unique poetic El Malei Raḥamim was said in his honor, and communities that fast on 20 Sivan still recite it to this day. . . .

This is a transcript and translation of the Maariv service for Shabbat evening in the Old Persian rite, as recorded in MS Adler 23 ENA (https://hebrewbooks.org/20923) in the JTS Library. The Old Persian rite shows some fascinating unique linguistic features. The first thing that immediately strikes one is its tendency towards poetic extensions and doublings, even in texts (such as the Avot blessing) where most other rites are almost completely uniform. It also shows some nonstandard vocalizations that appear to be influenced by the Babylonian system of vocalization. In modern Persian communities the standard rite is a variation of the Sephardic rite used throught the Mizraḥi world, but this older rite with its unique facets deserves to be preserved as well. This is part 1 of a planned series of transcripts and translations from MS Adler 23 ENA. . . .

This is a variation of Mipi El in Hebrew with a Judeo-Arabic translation found in the Seder al-Tawḥid for Rosh Ḥodesh Nissan, compiled by Mosheh Asher ibn Shmuel in 1887 in Alexandria. . . .

Presenting the full, somewhat short text of the Megillah of Sebastiano, telling the story of a great miracle that occurred to the Jewish community of Morocco on 1 Elul 5338, or August 4 1578 CE. On that day, King Sebastian of Portugal attempted to conquer Alcácer Quibir in North Africa — and inevitably to force the inquisition on the Jews of Morocco. But he was turned back at the last moment, protecting Moroccan independence for several more centuries. This scroll is traditionally recited in Jewish communities in the Maghreb to celebrate the repulsion of the Portuguese. . . .

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. . . .

Behold, a full text of the Megillah of Fustat, telling a story of a great miracle that happened in 1524 CE (5284 AM). . . .

The Seder ha-Tamid, a Provençal (Nusaḥ Comtat Venaissin) siddur published in Avignon in 1766, has liturgical additions for an amazing five different local festivals — one for Avignon, and two each for Carpentras and Cavaillon. Here’s a series of piyyutim for the fifteenth of Kislev in Carpentras. On 15 Kislev 5273 (24 November 1512 Julian), a troop of armed men entered the Jewish quarter in Carpentras. While we don’t know much else beyond that, we do know that this was a terrifying enough occurrence to the Jews of Carpentras that when the armed men left, a holiday was declared with multiple piyyutim and a full recitation of Hallel. . . .

A Judeo-Moroccan Arabic (Darija) adaptation of the Passover counting song Eḥad Mi Yodeaȝ, as found in Mahzor Moȝadé Hashem. . . .

The text of the popular counting song “Who Knows One?” in its original Hebrew, with a translation in Latin. . . .

Ḥad Gadya has a place in Seder tables throughout the Jewish world, and in many communities it was read in translation. Probably not this one though, seeing as it was written almost a thousand years after the Sabaic language became extinct. But Sabaic, a South Semitic language somewhere between Arabic and Ge’ez, is worth studying for any Jewish scholar because of the light it sheds on the history of the Semitic languages and the Middle East as a whole. (Not to mention that it was a lingua franca of the Yemenite Jewish kingdom of Himyar!) This is a Sabaic translation, transcription, and hypothetical vocalization of Ḥad Gadya. . . .

Ḥad Gadya has a place in Seder tables throughout the Jewish world, and in many communities it was read in translation. Probably not this one though, seeing as it was written over two millenia after the Ugaritic language became extinct. But Ugaritic, closely related to the Canaanite language family of which Hebrew is a part, is worth studying for any Jewish scholar because of the light it sheds on the history of the Western Semitic peoples. So I’ve attempted a Ugaritic translation of Ḥad Gadya. . . .

A Judeo-Moroccan Arabic (Darija) adaptation of the Passover seder song, Ḥad Gadya, as found in Mahzor Moȝadé Hashem. . . .

Ḥad Gadya has a place in Seder tables throughout the Jewish world, and in many communities it was read in translation. Probably not this one though, since there is very little evidence of any Jews having lived in the Nordic countries before the Spanish expulsion, long after the end of the Old Norse era. . . .

In our timeline, the Kaifeng Jewish community had originally spoken Persian as their lingua franca, before adopting the Kaifeng dialect of Mandarin that their neighbors spoke. But just change a little and all of history could be different! This is a translation of Ḥad Gadya in a timeline where Judeo-Aramaic was a little more prevalent in eastern Persia all those years ago. In this timeline, instead of speaking Judeo-Persian before adopting Chinese, the Kaifeng Jews spoke Aramaic. And this dialect of Aramaic, like many other languages spoken in the greater Chinese cultural sphere, underwent tonogenesis! . . .

Ḥad Gadya has a place in Seder tables throughout the Jewish world, and in many communities it was read in translation. Probably not this one though, since the earliest evidence of Jews in England dates back to 1070, by which point Middle English was already on its way to development. . . .

An original version of Ḥad Gadya which has been fully Aramaicized, with all the Hebrew words removed and the verbs conjugated properly. . . .

Ḥad Gadya has a place in Seder tables throughout the Jewish world, and in many communities it was read in translation. Probably not this one, but who knows? While there’s no known community of Jews who spoke Gothic or any other East Germanic language, there certainly were Jews who came into contact with it, such as the communities of Crimea (where variants of Gothic continued to be spoken until the 18th century). In any case this translation of Ḥad Gadya follows the grammar of Wulfila’s 4th-century Gothic translations. . . .

Ḥad Gadya has a place in Seder tables throughout the Jewish world, and in many communities it was read in translation. Probably not this one though, seeing as it was written over a millenium after Akkadian became extinct. But in my opinion there ought to be a representation of the East Semitic language family in the canon of Ḥad Gadya translations. Also included is a transcript of the Akkadian text into Hebrew script, since Judeo-Cuneiform doesn’t exist… yet. Eh, Aramaic script was invented in the places Akkadian was spoken anyway, it’s fine. A hearty thanks to Dr. Janine Wende at the University of Leipzig for proofreading and editing the Akkadian translation! . . .

Ḥad Gadya has a place in Seder tables throughout the Jewish world, and in many communities it was read in translation. This Middle Egyptian translation was almost certainly the one that Moshe Rabbeinu himself sang at his seder table that fateful night in Egypt! …Not really. Ḥad Gadya postdates Middle Egyptian as a written language by about three millennia. But it’s fun and Pesaḥ-appropriate to sing this song in the language of that dagnabbed Pharaoh himself. Also included is a transcript of the text into Hebrew script, since Judeo-Hieroglyphics don’t exist… yet. Eh, the alphabet was adapted from hieroglyphics from the start. It’s fine. You could even say it’s an improvement. For reading out loud I’ve also included the standard Egyptological pronunciation system. If you’re stuck in a time machine be careful, it’s an artificial convention that should not be mistaken for how Egyptian was pronounced at the time. But personally I think “Tutenkhamen” is easier to say than *Təwā́təʾ-ʿā́nəkh-ʾamā́nəʾ, so sue me. . . .

A Ge’ez translation of the popular Passover seder song, Ḥad Gadya. . . .

Ḥad Gadya has a place in Seder tables throughout the Jewish world, and in many communities it was read in translation. The Caribbean island of Curaçao is home to the oldest Jewish community west of the Atlantic, and its local creole language of Papiamentu has substantial Jewish influence. This is a translation of Ḥad Gadya into Papiamentu, along with a transcription into Hebrew according to a new methodology for Papiamentu in Hebrew. . . .

A Yevanic (Judeo-Greek) translation of the popular Passover song, Ḥad Gadya. . . .

Ḥad Gadya has a place in Seder tables throughout Arda, and in many communities it was read in translation. This translation into Quenya is necessary for any good Lothlórien sedarim. But to be serious, Quenya was one of several languages developed by J.R.R. Tolkien. It serves as the sacred ancestral language of the Noldorin elves in the Middle-Earth legendarium. The editor here has developed this adaptation of the well-known seder table-song Ḥad Gadya into Quenya, as well as a home-brewed transcription system into Hebrew script included here (PDF | ODT). This translation uses several fan-made terms, such as cuimacir for “butcher” and luhtya- for “extinguish”, as well as one original neologism, yacincë for “kid-goat.” . . .

This is the translation of Ḥad Gadya into Judeo-Valyrian with a Hebraicization schema for Valyrian by Isaac Gantwerk Mayer. . . .

A Judeo-Arabic translation of the popular Passover song, Ḥad Gadya. . . .

A Latin translation of the popular Passover song, Ḥad Gadya. . . .

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. . . .