| Source (Hebrew) | Translation (English) |
|---|---|
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יְיָ מָה אָדָם
הֲלֹא בָשָׂר וָדָם יָמָיו כְּצֵל עוֹבֵר וְלֹא יֵדַע בְּנוּדָם פִּתְאֹם יָבוֹא אֵידוֹ וְיִשְׁכַּב וְיֵרָדֵם |
Almighty! what is man?
But flesh and blood. Like shadows flee his days, He marks not how they vanish from his gaze, Suddenly, he must die — He droppeth, stunned, into nonentity. |
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יְיָ מָה אָדָם
גֵּו נִרְפָּשׁ וְנִרְמָס מָלֵא תֹךְ וּמִרְמָה וְגַם אָוֶן וְחָמָס כְּצִיץ נוֹבֵל יָצָא וְחַם הַשֶּׁמֶשׁ וְנָמָס אִם תִּפְקֹד עָלָיו עֲווֹנוֹ הַנִּכְמָס אַפְּךָ וְגַם קִצְפְּךָ אֵיךְ יִשָּׂא וְעָמָס לָכֵן חֲמֹל וּגְמֹל כִּי אֵין לְאֵל יָדָם |
Almighty! what is man.
A body frail and weak. Full of deceit and lies, Of vile hypocrisies. Now like a flower blowing, Now scorched by sunbeams glowing. And wilt thou of his trespasses inquire? How may he ever bear Thine anger just, thy vengeance dire? Punish him not, but spare, For he is void of power and strength! |
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יְיָ מָה אָדָם
בַּטִּיט יִתְגּוֹלֵל בְּשֶׁקֶר יִתְהַלֵּל וּבְשָׁוְא יִתְהוֹלֵל הֲטָהוֹר מִטָּמֵא וְיָקָר מִזּוֹלֵל אִם תִּפְקֹד עָלָיו עֲווֹן יֵצֶר מְעוֹלֵל כְּמוֹ עֵשֶׂב יִיבַשׁ וְכֶחָצִיר יְמוֹלֵל לָכֵן חֲמֹל וּגְמֹל חֶסֶד בְּיוֹם אֵידָם |
Almighty! what is man?
By filthy, lust possessed, Whirled in a round of lies, Fond frenzy swells his breast. The pure man sinks in mire and slime, The noble shrinketh not from crime, Wilt thou resent on him the charms of sin? Like fading grass, So shall he pass. Like chaff that blows Where the wind goes. Then spare him, be thou merciful, O King, Upon the dreaded day of reckoning! |
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יְיָ מָה אָדָם
יָהִיר וְלֹא נִחָם מֵי חָמָס יִשְׁתֶּה וְלֶחֶם רַע יִלְחָם וְכַיָּם הוּא נִגְרָשׁ וְכַתַּנּוּר יֵחָם אִם תִּפְקֹד עָלָיו חֵטְא אֲשֶׁר בּוֹ יֻחָם יִסָּפֶה כְּחַלָּשׁ עִם גִּבּוֹר נִלְחָם לָכֵן חֲמֹל וּגְמֹל וְכַפֵּר מַעְבָּדָם |
Almighty! what is man?
The haughty son of time Drinks deep of sin, And feeds on crime Seething like waves, that roll, Hot as a glowing coal. And wilt thou punish him for sins inborn? Lost and forlorn, Then like the weakling he must fall, Who some great hero strives withal. Oh, spare him, therefore! let him win Grace for his sin! |
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יְיָ מָה אָדָם
רַק נִתְעָב וְנֶאֱלָח כָּל הַיּוֹם יִבְגֹּד וּפִיו בְּרָעָה יִשְׁלָח אִם תִּפְקֹד עָלָיו עֲווֹנוֹ הַנִּדְלָח כַּבֶּגֶד יִבְלֶה וְכֶעָשָׁן נִמְלָח לָכֵן חֲמֹל וּגְמֹל וְכַפֵּר נָא וּסְלַח לְשׁוֹכְנֵי בָתֵי חֹמֶר אֲשֶׁר בְּעָפָר יְסוֹדָם |
Almighty! what is man?
Spotted in guilty wise, A stranger unto faith, Whose tongue is stained with lies, And shalt thou count his sins — so is he lost, Uprooted by thy breath. Like to a stream by tempest tossed. His life falls from him like a cloak, He passes into nothingness, like smoke. Then spare him, punish not, be kind, I pray, To him who dwelleth in the dust, an image wrought in clay! |
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יְיָ מָה אָדָם
וְהוּא כָעֵץ נִקְסָס בְּבוֹא אַמַּת בִּצְעוֹ יְהִי כְמוֹ קַשׁ מְרֻסָּס וְיִבְכֶּה מֵאֲשְֶׁר שָׂשׂ יוֹם יִרְקַב כְּמוֹ סָס אִם תִּפְקֹד עָלָיו עֲווֹנוֹ הַנִּכְסָס כְּמוֹ שַׁבְּלוּל יַהֲלֹךְ וְכַדּוֹנַג נִמְסָס לָכֵן חֲמֹל וּגְמֹל וְאַל תְּדַקְדֵּק בַּעֲדָם |
Almighty! what is man?
A withered bough! When he is awestruck by approaching doom. Like a dried blade of grass, so weak, so low The pleasure of his life is changed to gloom. He crumbles like a garment spoiled with moth; According to his sins wilt thou be wroth? He melts like wax before the candle’s breath, Yea, like thin water, so he vanisheth, Oh, spare him therefore, for thy gracious name, And be not too severe upon his shame! |
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יְיָ מָה אָדָם
לְבַד נִדָּף כְּעָלֶה בְּמֹאזְנַיִם לַעֲלוֹת בַּהֶבֶל יְסֻלֶּה וְכִכְלוּב מָלֵא עוֹף כֵּן מִרְמָה מָלֵא אִם תִּפְקֹד עָלָיו וְעַל לִבְּךָ יַעֲלֶה כְּמוֹ עָשָׁן יִכְלֶה וּכְרָקָב יִבְלֶה לָכֵן חֲמֹל וּגְמֹל כְּחַסְדְּךָ לֹא כְחַסְדָּם. |
Almighty! what is man?
A faded leaf! If thou dost weigh him in the balance — lo! He disappears — a breath that thou dost blow. His heart is ever filled With lust of lies unstilled. Wilt bear in mind his crime Unto all time? He fades away like clouds sun-kissed, Dissolves like mist. Then spare him! let him love and mercy win, According to thy grace, and not according to his sin! |
Emma Lazarus’s translation, simply referred to as “Hymn” — derived from the piyyut יְיָ מָה אָדָם by Shlomo ibn Gabirol — was first published in her anthology, Songs of a Semite: The dance to death and other poems (1882), pages 68-70. This is the first time we are aware of Emma Lazarus’s rhymed English translation being set side-by-side with ibn Gabirol’s Hebrew.
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