Joseph Friedlander, comp. The Standard Book of Jewish Verse. 1917.
By Morris RosenfeldSimchas Torah
“S
On your feet till down you drop!
In your mouth a merry jest—
And a burden in your breast.”
At table we sit,
We eat what we choose,
We drink and are gay.
Sing, brother Jews,
Be merry today!
Cup after cup—
Drink it all up
No need to fear.
Lift up your voice,
To-day we rejoice,
Sing brothers dear.
And alas! Jewish gladness,
What means it; O tell me,
And whence is the sadness
That weighs on my heart when I hear.
I hang down my head
Like a child that is chidden.
And oft, ere I know it,
Uncalled for, unbidden,
Falls bitter and burning,
A tear!
Our hopes are requited;
And often the sunshine
Has brightened our way.
We once were a nation
Both strong and united,
And yet, O my brothers,
And yet, to this day
We keep not one feast day
But still doth remind us
Of swords that lie shivered
And broken behind us.
And old tattered banners,
Now useless and furled,
Of all our dead heroes,
Our great ones who perish,
The altars forgotten,
The ruins uncherished.
And scattered abroad o’er the world
No song but contains but
Two words of rejoicing,
In which we discern not
The jesting below,
An echo of laughter,
Of false bitter laughter,
A cry half-despairing
Of shame and of woe!…
High above your head thy bright star flashes
To win such a feast-day, one such feast-day,
Ten we spend fasting in sackcloth and ashes.