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A picture book drawn by Z. RABAN
Bezalel, Jerusalem
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We wish to thank the Young Judaeans for permitting us to use the following poems:
The S ho far Call Yom Kippur The Succah on the Roof Simchath Torah Before the Menorah Palestine Spring Song The Questions Offerings
The Wailing Place in Jerusalem
which appear in the book "Poems for Young Judaeans."
SABBATH BLESSING From "Around the Year in Rhymes"
By courtesy of Bloch Publishing Co.
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A Jewish child is happy, gay Whenever there's a holiday!
On New Year*s Day to Shul we go To hear the holy Shofar blow. And greet our friends with joy and cheer "A Happy and a Sweet New Year J"
And on Yom Kippur, holiest day We sit in Shul and fast and pray.
On Sukfcos days, old men and youths, All together, dwell in booths.
At Chanuckah, with bright lights, eight Happy days we celebrate.
Chamisho Osor! Now let's see Who can plant the finest tree!
At Purim time, each girl and boy Sends Shalach Monos, full of joy.
Pesach, in the spring, we greet, And Matzos, moror, we all eat.
Lag B'Omer, each child shows How brave he is, with arrows, bows.
And for Shovuos, garlands green We weave, the loveliest ever seen.
A Jewish child is happy, gay Whenever there's a holiday!
Translated by Samuel S. Grossman,,
The Sabbath light is burning bright; Our prettiest cloth is clean and white, With wine and bread for Friday night.
At set of sun our work is done; The happy Sabbath has begun; Now bless us, Father, every one.
O Sabbath guest, dear Sabbath guest, Come, share the blessing with the rest, For all our house tonight is blest.
By Jessie E. Sampter.
9Si
Within the synagogue the light is dim;
: The air is hushed around;
Even the-silence seems to pray until
We hear'the Shofar sound. -O. Shofar, tell our souls we need not fear,
Though long and hard- the way; O Shofar, bind us with thy sacred strain, Till each young heart will echo Israel's pain,
And like a trumpet clear, Sound to the world the vow we pledge anew; To bear ail-worthily the name of' Jew, .'(.Throughout the coming year!
By E. E. Levincer.
To Thee we give ourselves today, Forgetful of the world outside; We tarry in Thy house, O Lord,
From eventide to eventide. From Thy all-searching, righteous eye Our deepest heart can nothing hide; It crieth up to Thee for peace
From eventide to eventide. Who could endure, shouldst Thou, O God,
As we deserve, forever chide! We therefore seek Thy pardoning grace From eventide to eventide.
By Gustav Gottheil.
Bring up boughs with greenest leaves,
Bring up ripest fruits, Make a heap of autumn flowers,
And of strong young shoots! Nail together sturdy planks,
Cover them with branches, Wrap them round with curly vines,
And leaves in avalanches! Make a sky of quivering green,
Where fruit hangs down like stars; Breezes creep to look at them
Between the wooden bars! Though the city's full of noise,
In our tent we stay Arid only hear our father's prayer
That brings the holiday!
By SuLAMlTH ISH KlSHOR.
Rejoice upon this festal day!
When then should honest Jews be gay?
Once more unroll
The sacred scroll, And greet the feast with song and play! We chant the Law through all the year, Our minds intense, our hearts austere;
Today we jest iWith mirthful zest To show we hold our Torah dear! Come, comrades all, and merry be Come, raise a lilting melody!
And let the sky
Receive our cry, That sounds the Torah's jubilee!
By Abraham Burnstein.
IS
In the candle's rays I see Lovely pictures beckoning me: Judas with his shield and sword, Pledged to battle for the Lord; Eleazar, steadfast, strong, 'Mid the mocking heathen throng; Hannah straight as candle's flame, Sons who glorified her name Soldiers all, they smiled in pride, Glad and unafraid they died God of Israel, may I be, A soldier worthy them and Thee!
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Through the wide and verdant meadows
Lads are bearing plough and hoe; "Aleph-beth," the master teaches,
While they saunter to and fro. Tree, an "aieph"tree, a "beth"
And the "gimel" is a tree; Trees the symbols, writ on green,
Far as any eye can see! Here's the Torah, dearest children;
Learn its words and hold it dear; Plant and sow, you merry striplings
Look about youSpring is here! Study in the book of nature,
And in all that's written there; In this land, who plants a sapling
Unfurls the flag his comrades bear.
By Abraham Burnstein.
111
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David, David, come and see
What my mother made for me:
Funny suit of red and green,
Funniest hat you've ever seen!
Won't I be the queerest sight,
When I sing tomorrow night: "Heint is Purim, morgen is ois Git mir a groshen, und varft mir arois!"
Come and mask on Purim night!
Mother'll help you to dress right.
You can be a Persian king,
Soldier, slave, or anything;
Buy a mask and come along,
And help us sing our Purim song: "Heint is Purim, morgen is ois Git mir a groshen, und varft mir arois!"
By E. C. Eiihlich.
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I've, practised, practised day by day To learn the questions I must say On Seder night; Then father, like a king of kings, Now low, now loud the answer sings When I have asked aright.
To you and me the story's told, Because 'twas we in days of old
Whom God made free. To Pharaoh's slave He gave His rod And made of us a Prince of God
And dried for us the sea.
But I would ask one question more: If we today should crowd the shore
Of every land, With^ listening mind and daring heart, Would not the oceans leap apart
Again at God's command?
By J. E. Sampter.
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"Son of a Star" they called you
That fell in darkest days! Bar Kochba, our hero,
Not you could hear our praise. With broken sword you perished,
In ruins crushed and black; Bar Kochba, Bar Kochba,
Today we call you back! The battle is unfinished
Where once you fought with odds, And dared to challenge mighty Rome,
Her emperor and her gods. Then where was Israel's Guardian
Who slumbers not nor sleeps? Above the grappling peoples
His patient watch he keeps. And the battle shall be finished
Where once you fought in vain, And the star that fell in ruins
Shall rise and shine again. Despair not, my people,
Bar Kochba seems to say, I fought two thousand years ago And victory comes today.
By Jessie E. Sampter.
Upon the Holy Temple steps
Our baskets once were laid, Heaped high with corn and fruit and grain
A tribute gladly paid.
From every farm and every barn,
From every fruitful tree, The best and ripest of the crop
We gave God willingly.
Each man and maid, each girl and boy
Joined in the happy feast, The richest and the poorest, too,
The greatest and the least.
Thus once in old Jerusalem
We kept the Feast of Weeks; So now today, o'er all the world,
The Jew God's Temple seeks.
And prays that soon the day may come
When tithes of all his store May once again an offering be,
At a new Temple door.
By S. Ish Kishor.
II
With head bowed down, they stand with streaming eyes.
Before the ruined wall, whose grimy stones Are crumbling with the weight of centuries, And read their Mincha-prayer in mournful tones.
Their garb proclaims them men of many lands: Those dwell amid the northern snows, and these
Have wandered far from Yemen's burning sands, Or south their way across the western seas.
Not here alone do wailing figures stand!
Not here alone do tears of sorrow flow! In every clime they beat, with clenched hand
Against the stones of Israel's wall of woe.
In every land there rises, stern and great, This self-same wail of torment and of fears,
Its courses laid with stones of scorn, and hate, And bonded with cement of blood and tears.
By Louis Federleicht.
c/o UECiv
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