A translation of Ḥad Gadya into Hulaulá (Trans-Zab Jewish Neo-Aramaic), the Aramaic dialect of the Jews of Sanandaj. Largely based on the translation of Alan Niku (found here), with a few minor changes, and with the transcription altered to the scholarly transcription of Geoffrey Khan in his analysis of the dialect. Also featuring a transcription into Hebrew script.

This is the translation of Ḥad Gadya into a dialect of Aramaic in Zakho, a/k/a Lishana Deni (Zakho Jewish Neo-Aramaic) by Isaac Gantwerk Mayer.

A translation of Ḥad Gadya into Judeo-Provençal, largely based on a recording made by Eliane Amado Levi-Valensi (ca. 1972).

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.

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, 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.

A Latin translation of the popular Passover 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 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.

This pizmon, signed with the name Moshe but of otherwise unclear attribution, is recited in the Sephardic communities of Rhodes and Istanbul (and nowadays in Seattle) before the open ark on Shabbat Shirah and the seventh day of Pesaḥ. The main Hebrew text of the first and last two stanzas are as found in the Seattle Sephardic community’s 2002 Siddur Zehut Yosef (as well as the Gözlem Kitap press in Istanbul’s 2011 Şaloş Regalim), with footnotes marking differences in the Shirei Yisrael B’Erets HaḲedem (published in Istanbul in 1921) and the Yeshiva University Library diwan of Baruch Moshe Moreno, written by hand in the monastery neighborhood of Tiberias in 1867 (YU MS. 1126). In between are three additional non-rhyming stanzas found in substantially different form in the other two sources but not recited in modern Sephardic communities.

This pizmon, signed with the name Moshe but of otherwise unclear attribution, is recited in the Sephardic communities of Rhodes and Istanbul (and nowadays in Seattle) before the open ark on Shabbat Shirah and the seventh day of Pesaḥ. The main Hebrew text of the first and last two stanzas are as found in the Seattle Sephardic community’s 2002 Siddur Zehut Yosef (as well as the Gözlem Kitap press in Istanbul’s 2011 Şaloş Regalim), with footnotes marking differences in the Shirei Yisrael B’Erets HaḲedem (published in Istanbul in 1921) and the Yeshiva University Library diwan of Baruch Moshe Moreno, written by hand in the monastery neighborhood of Tiberias in 1867 (YU MS. 1126). In between are three additional non-rhyming stanzas found in substantially different form in the other two sources but not recited in modern Sephardic communities.

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.

A pizmon (a seliḥah with a refrain, to be recited aloud) recited in the Sephardic rite for the seventeenth of Tammuz, Elohei Yeshuatenu, like most seliḥot for that day, features stanzas for each of the five tragedies that occurred on the day. But what’s unique about it is the legend of its author. This piyyuṭ is signed with the name Andreas, the signature of the legendary Jewish Pope Andreas, whose popular story can be found throughout the Jewish world.

Barukh shèAmar for Shabbat and festivals, in the Old Persian rite, as recorded in MS Adler 23 ENA 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 Barukh shèAmar is an intricate rhyming acrostic chock full of Biblical references.

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.