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. . . .

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! . . .

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. 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. . . .

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 . . .

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

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. . . .

The text of the popular piyyut “Adir Bimlukhah” (a/k/a “Ki lo na’eh”) in Hebrew, with a Latin translation. . . .

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. . . .

This is a poetic Birkat haMazon for Pesaḥ, from the Cairo Geniza (CUL T-S H11.88 1v). Much thanks to the work of Dr. Avi Shmidman, whose 2009 doctoral thesis is the foundational work for poetic Birkat haMazon studies. He marks it as Piyyut 64, and his Hebrew-language commentary begins on page 394 of his work. I’ve included two translations of the poetic portions — one literal and one preserving the acrostic and rhyme scheme. . . .

The following piyyut seems to have been customarily used in some Babylonian communities as an extensive replacement for the “creator of the vine-fruit” opening of the kiddush. Rav Saadia Gaon forbade it for being an alteration of the talmudic formula, but his successor Rav Hai Gaon permitted it for its cherished status. No communities today have preserved a custom of reciting it, but in 1947 Naphtali Wieder (zçl) published a text he found in the Cairo Geniza, which is replicated and translated below. Daniel Goldschmidt (zçl) suggests that it may be in it of itself a compilation of two different rites. The conjunction point is marked below with a black line. . . .

A litany of mythical guests and creatures presenting at the Passover seder. . . .

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. . . .

This piyyut, Tanun Shvaḥeih (Tell the Praise), the eighth 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 15:18, the famous verse “Adonai yimlokh l-‘olam va-‘ed.” The English translation preserves the Hebrew acrostic of the Aramaic. . . .

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

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). . . .

Jews all over the world announce the new month on the Shabbat before it with a text known as “birkat ha-ḥodesh” or blessing the month. In many rites, such as the Western Sephardic and Moroccan rites, the fast days 17 Tammuz and 10 Tevet are also announced on the Shabbat before them with a text known as “hazkarat tsomot” or announcing fasts. But to my knowledge, only the Italian rite (and possibly the ancient Eretz Yisrael rite from which much of it derives) have a custom of announcing Pesaḥ on the Shabbat before it. This passage, the Announcement of Pesaḥ (Azcaràd Pesah in Italian traditional pronunciation) is recited on the Shabbat before Pesaḥ, commonly known as Shabbat haGadol (Sciabbàd Aggadòl), after the reading from the Torah. Citing the mystical hekhalot literature, it celebrates the sages who established the rules of the calendar. . . .