The doves in the trees are moaning
About This Entry
Judah Ibn Ghiyath wrote this Hebrew poem to his friend and correspondent, the renowned philosopher and poet Judah ha-Levi. It begins with a virtuosic meditation on sorrow and old age, riffing on various pairings of black and white, while the last part is a lengthy and effusive expression of love for his friend.
Notes
[The expression is taken from Job 23:2, where the word meri has its usual meaning of “defiant” or “rebellious.” Here the poet seems to be using it in a different connotation, based on the phonetically similar word mar, “bitter.”—Trans.]
[Meaning of Hebrew uncertain. The verb nud can mean “to wander,” “to turn aside,” and “to nod one’s head”; it means the last of these in Job 2:11, when Job’s friends come to react to his tragedies. The related verb nadad can refer to insomnia, when one’s sleep “wanders” (see Esther 6:1).—Trans.]
[I.e., instead of coming to an early death, he has become an old man, and his life as an old man is his ransom. The Hebrew word for ransom is kofer; homonyms of this word mean “black pitch” and “henna,” and the poet may be punning on them.—Trans.]
[Literally: “the dwelling-places of Judah”; this is a pun based on the biblical name for the land of Judah, the part of the Holy Land where the tribe of Judah dwelled. The previous stanza is based on Psalms 102:15, where the Psalmist expresses love for Zion. Our poet is adapting this pious language to describe his love for “Judah”: not the country, but his friend of this name, Judah ha-Levi.—Trans.]
[See Jeremiah 46:19. “Utensils of exile” are what one prepares before one needs to leave one’s home, portable tools for the road. When our poet meets up with his friend, he will be ready to settle down.—Trans.]
[See Isaiah 63:1. Edom is the medieval Jewish term for Christendom. Although he also lived in Islamic areas, Judah ha-Levi was born in Castile and spent significant parts of his life there. He is thus “coming from Edom.”—Trans.]
[Meaning of Hebrew uncertain. In scripture, when the verb gamal, “to compensate,” is used together with the noun nefesh, “soul,” the soul is always the recipient of the compensation. Here, context would suggest that the poet’s soul is the subject, compensating the poet for his beautiful writing by sending back writing of his own.—Trans.]
[Judah ha-Levi’s poetry is like sophisticated spiced wine, whereas this author’s poetry is like wine made from mere twigs. There may also be a pun here, in that the noun zemora, “twig,” comes from a root homonymous with that of zemer, “song.”—Trans.]
Published in: The Posen Library of Jewish Culture and Civilization, vol. 3: Encountering Christianity and Islam.
