O my creator!: On Entering the Synagogue

Jacob Ibn Tsur

Beginning of the 18th Century

O my creator! Pay heed to the servant that knocks at your doors; open up for him the entrance to the lintel of your dwelling place.
As he lifts up his eyes to you, may his supplication, his cries, reach you, as he speaks in your house.
Accept his prayers, find them favorable like burnt-offerings and sweet fragrances on your altars.
He arises early in the morning to give thanks to you; may this be fragrant like a meal offering in the presence of your loftiness.
Strengthen his arms, O rock, for he yearns with his whole heart to dwell under the shadow of your highness.
He is like a little bird, all alone;1 please rescue him, and give him respite, freedom, and redemption.
Upon those who bite him like snakes and hate him and oppose him—pour out your wrath, with a furious storm.
His soul yearns for you. Give him a crown and bring him up to the mountain of your inheritance.2
Hasten and show your mercy, to build up your Temple, your footstool, your palace, your house, as a lofty structure.
O lofty one! Protect your people, build Zion and establish it, and show goodness to the place of your residence!

Translated by
Gabriel
Wasserman
.

Notes

[See Psalms 102:8.—Trans.]

[I.e., the Temple Mount in Jerusalem.—Trans.]

Credits

Jacob Ibn Tsur, “O My Creator! On Entering the Synagogue” (poem, Fez, beginning of the 18th century). Published in: Ephraim Hazan, Ha-shirah ha-ʻivrit bi-tsefon Afrikah (Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 1995; online, 2003), p. 274.

Published in: The Posen Library of Jewish Culture and Civilization, vol. 5.

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