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. . . .

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. . . .

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, 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. . . .

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. . . .

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. 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. . . .

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. . . .

A translation of Ḥad Gadya into Esperanto by Erin Piateski with a Hebraicization schema for Esperanto by Isaac Gantwerk Mayer. Piateski’s translation first appeared in her כוכב ירוק הגדה של פסח | Verda Stelo Hagado de Pesaĥo (2010). . . .

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 Čveneburuli (Judeo-Georgian) translation of the popular Passover song, Ḥad Gadya. . . .

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

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

A Judezmo/Ladino translation of the popular Passover song, Ḥad Gadya. . . .

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

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

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

Making sense of Ḥad Gadya beyond its explicit meaning has long inspired commentary. For me, Ḥad Gadya expresses in its own beautiful and macabre way a particularly important idea in Judaism that has become obscure if not esoteric. While an animal’s life may today be purchased, ultimately, the forces of exploitation, predation, and destruction that dominate our world will be overturned. Singing Ḥad Gadya is thus particularly apropos for the night of Passover since, in the Jewish calendar, this one night, different from all other nights, is considered the most dangerous night of the year — it is the time in which the forces of darkness in the world are strongest. Why? It is on this night that the divine aspect of Mashḥit, the executioner, is explicitly invoked (albeit, only in the context of the divine acting as midwife and guardian/protector of her people), as explained in the midrash for Exodus 12:12 . . .