Does the handsome gazelle

Joseph Ibn Ḥasdai

ca. 1045

Does the handsome gazelle have strength and might and power

to wrap himself in a mantle of darkness, like a cloak—

and to pasture the nighttime stars,

and wander the wilderness, the lair of dread and fright,

and to go from interior chambers [ḥadarim] to [places of] anxiety [ḥarada],

from the humming [hemyat] of musical instruments to [places of] shock [mehuma]?

until he is trapped by the cords of dreams

and is hunted by the snares of sleep?

So when he was asleep, I gathered my desire,

which he angrily denied me when awake.

In his sweet sleep, he offered me

the sweet wine of his mouth, in cups of gemstone.

I lay down, and on my breast were his locks,

exuding myrrh upon his ruddy head.

My right hand was embracing the moon,

my lips kissing the sun.

The bed was perfumed with frankincense,

the couch made fragrant with all spices.

I felt such pleasure in my vision, but then

I woke up, and nothing was there!

Only the aroma restores my soul,

the waft of myrrh brings life back to me—

Just like the name of the prince, the unique one, Rav Samuel,

who has filled the whole face of the world.

He has become great among the Jews like a tower,

has been raised up, lofty like a wall among his people.

Through him, his holy tribe has attained a new glorious lair,

higher than the Bear and the Pleiades.

Indeed, Samuel is [like the biblical] Samuel,

who was called to enter God’s sanctum.

Who knows if he’s been raised as a ghost a second time,

or has come back fully, to stand for his destiny?¹

And if not, has he not been consistent in his righteousness,

his uprightness, and his wholesome ways?

His lips guard knowledge,

and from his mouth God’s perfect law may be sought.

His glory is like the moon when it shines.

His deeds are like a stream in a drought.

Loftiness is bound to his shoulder.

High stature is imprinted on his upper arm.

He sought out wisdom until he could understand its mysteries,

and knowledge, until he understood its place.

He is the brother of cleverness, which shines like the dawn

in a time of distress, which is like the shadow of death.

Every king walks by the light of his face,

and every face is covered in shame [in comparison to his].

In his presence, all princes are like oxen,

and all advisers like mute ewes.

He is the master of my life, my life resides in his love,

and his very name reduces me to nothing.

His love is written upon my heart.

Since youth, it has been inscribed on my heart’s tablet.

You have wisdom, you have extra spirit,

you have knowledge, you have understanding, you have prudence,

and your hand is generous like the rains throughout the seasons,

and your heart as expansive as the distance between east and west.

Yours is a pen that is noble and beloved,

though its size is so pathetically lacking.

It is the product of a reed [kaneh], but it acquires [koneh] splendor and dominion.

It is a worm’s brother but full of content and cleverness.

Honored individuals, military men in their chariots,

don’t compare to him, even when he is walking on foot.

His two teeth are like two sharp arrows,

and his spittle, whether [to speak] kindness or vengeance.

And he scatters sapphires into his books,

which are inlaid with fine fabrics and embroidery.

My love for his fruitful son (Genesis 49:22) Yehosef

is greater and stronger than all my other loves.

He’s a lion’s whelp, a darling child,

a revealer of every hidden, concealed matter [see Genesis 41:45],

and the blossom that flowered on the staff of [Aaron] the Kohathite,

upon the spring of judgment and wisdom.

Young in years, delighting in Mishnah,

a tender boy, explaining deep secrets.

If all others of his generation are like produce,

he is the terumah, the offering separated for God, Shaddai.

I would redeem him with my own life, which is bound up

with his perfect, wise life.

Hear me, O Nagid of my people,

and direct both your discerning ears to my words!

Accept my upright, straight song,

a gift of pure, longstanding love,

which is inlaid in garments like a bride,

wrapped up in jewels like a girl.

You are its groom, but it is an eternal virgin;

though it may have a father, it is “orphaned.”

Now I deposit into your hands, O my ga’on,

two brothers, who are fleeing a desolate land.

They are like strangers in their own inheritance plot,

for their land is to them like Admah.

If not for your protective shade over them,

they would be wandering to the edges of the earth.

And, with your glorious greatness, send greetings

to the heads of the sweet yeshiva—

my noble ones, who are distant

but close to my soul, which is gloomy because it wants them so much.

By your life and theirs, may God hasten

to bring the fallen people to rise again!

Translated by Gabriel Wasserman.

Notes

[Samuel ha-Nagid is as great as the biblical Samuel and, indeed, may himself be the biblical Samuel. This is possible in one of two ways: either he has come back as a ghost, just as the biblical Samuel did (1 Samuel 28:11–19), or he has come back resurrected fully in body and spirit, to “stand for his destiny,” as Daniel is promised in Daniel 12:13.—Trans.]

Published in: The Posen Library of Jewish Culture and Civilization, vol. 3: Encountering Christianity and Islam.