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. . . .

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, Man K’vatakh (Who is Like You), the seventh in a series of Aramaic piyyutim from the seventh day of Pesaḥ, is meant to be recited as an introduction to the Targum of the verse that includes “Mi Khamokha.” The English translation preserves the Hebrew acrostic of the Aramaic. . . .

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. . . .

‘Ad Ana Bikhya B’Tsiyon, is one of the oldest qinot of the cycle, dating to the period before rhyme schemes were the norm for Hebrew poetry. It describes the heavenly luminaries themselves as sympathizing with and lamenting for Israel. It goes through the entire zodiac, beginning with Ares and ending with Pisces. It is traditional to stand and recite the last few lines aloud before transitioning into the Ḳedusha d’Sidra. . . .

Many communities recite a series of poems interwoven with the Amidah on Purim. These poems, known as the “krovets,” were written by Elazar b. Rabbi Kalir, the greatest of the early paytanim. But lesser known than the krovets for Purim are the krovets for Tisha b’Av, written as well by Elazar b. Rabbi Kalir. A fine example of Elazar’s intricate poetry, the krovets for Tisha b’Av is rife with Biblical citations, finally culminating with the prayer for Jerusalem. Each stanza begins with five tightly rhymed lines beginning with a constant א followed by a quintuple half-acrostic on the second letter, then a poetic volta on the word אֵיכָה, followed by a Biblical citation, a verse starting with the last word in the citation, a letter from Elazar’s name, and a final Biblical citation. The krovets for Tisha b’Av is meant to be part of the morning service, tied into the cantorial repetition for Tisha b’Av. . . .

The poetic genre known as ḳerovot, brief poems woven throughout the repetition of the weekday Amidah, is nowadays most closely associated with Elazar biRabbi Qallir’s Purim “Qrovetz“, a majestically interwoven piece of piyyut if ever there was one. But there are many other ḳerovot that have historically been recited, and this one is by the same author! The weekday qerovot cycle for Ḥanukkah, retelling the story of the Greek oppression using intricate poetic language. Included within is a qedushtah that instructs us on some of the halakhic requirements for the Ḥanukkah lights. . . .

Qallir’s reshut for the Ṭal service on the first day of Pesaḥ. Also included is an acrostic English translation, as well as the catena of verses found in manuscripts but missing from most modern printings . . .

The piyyut, Omets G’vurotekha by Elazar ha-Qalir, in its Latin translation by Johann Stephan Rittangel. . . .

The Təʾəzazä Sänbät, or the Commandments of the Sabbath, is a unique and fascinatingly eclectic work, combining Enochic and aggadic material with an almost kabbalistic personification of Shabbat, and influence from Islamic and Christian texts. Attributed to Abba Ṣabra, a famed 15th-century convert to Judaism, it is a compilation of texts meant to be studied and considered on Shabbat, alongside unique and striking visualizations of divine cosmology, heaven and hell, and midrashim found nowhere else. . . .

In many communities, the practice of Yaḥats, or breaking the matsah before maggid, is done with liturgical and ritual additions. The additions included here are one practice out of many variants as found in the practice of Djerba, the island off the coast of Tunisia. . . .

The first day of Pesach, according to the Sages, is the day the world is judged for grain and dew. Because of this, many customs have developed tying it into the pomp of the High Holy Days. One custom preserved in many medieval maḥzorim is to extend the final blessing of the the Musaf “Tal” (Dew) service, including a Hayom piyyut, a piyyut form otherwise almost exclusively associated with the Yamim Noraim. This extended Sim Shalom berakha including piyyutim is presented here, largely based on the form compiled by Ernst Daniel Goldschmidt (zatsal). . . .

The Italian rite, unique among Jewish rites, has preserved up until very recently the custom recorded in the Talmud, Masekhet Tagnanith, for communally declared fast days. In this rite, sometimes referred to as the Twenty-Four Blessings, six more blessings are added to the liturgy — the Zikhronot and Shofrot portions more commonly recited on Rosh haShanah, and four different psalms, all interspaced with a poetic litany on behalf of the ancestors’ merit and shofar blasts. It’s a fascinatng service! . . .

The piyyut, Dayenu, in its Latin translation by Johann Stephan Rittangel. . . .

This qina is recited in the Spanish-Portuguese rite (as practiced in the Snoge in Amsterdam, the Bevis Marks Synagogue in London, and Shearith Israel in New York City among many other communities) at the conclusion of the recitation of qinot on the evening of the Ninth of Aḅ. Its refrain, taken from the Four Questions of the Passover liturgy, is reframed* as a reflection of the suffering of such a day, contrasting the celebration of salvation on Passover with the fear and desolation of the fast day. . . .

The alphabetic acrostic piyyut, Adir Hu, in its Latin translation by Johann Stephan Rittangel as found in his translation of the Pesaḥ seder haggadah, Liber Rituum Paschalium (1644). . . .