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 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. 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. 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. . . .

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. . . .

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. . . .

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 most well-known 42 letter divine name acrostic piyyut. . . .

The piyyut, Tsur Mishelo, in Hebrew with an English translation. . . .

The paralitugical Birkat haMazon Tsur Mishelo, in Hebrew with an English translation. . . .

A rhymed translation of Tsur Mishelo, a paralitugical Birkat haMazon. . . .

The earliest recorded prayer or piyyut providing an acrostic for the 42 letter divine name. . . .

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

The piyyut, Adon Olam, in its expanded fifteen line variation, in Hebrew with English translation. . . .

A rhyming translation in English to the popular piyyut, Adon Olam. . . .

A “bikkur” piyyut traditionally added at the end of Hashkivenu for Shavˁuot in the Old French (and Maḥzor Vitry) and Romaniote rites. From the acrostic we know the author was named Yosef ben Yaˁakov. Other than that we know very little about this poem’s origin and age, although its structure fits with the early Ashkenazi piyyut oeuvre. . . .

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. . . .

The traditional Ashkenazi qerovot added to the Musaf repetition for Shabbat Sheqalim, alongside a new gender-neutral translation . . .