Joseph Friedlander, comp. The Standard Book of Jewish Verse. 1917.
By Harry Wolfsohn (Trans. H. B. Ehrmann)The Menorah
F
I had longed for a glimpse of the light;
And so when the sun in his glory,
Bewildered and dazzled my sight,
I acclaimed him my God and desired
To pour forth my soul to this One,
To bow down midst worshiping strangers,
And pray, as they prayed, to the Sun.
Denied my Menorah its flame,
For is there not one Sun in Heaven
That shines upon all men the same?
On every tongue but one language,
In every heart but one prayer?
Oh, all the world is my temple,
I’m one of the worshipers there!
And lo! Now my Sun-God was gone;
And far the sun-worshipers scattered
When the last glow of light was done.
Then all of them lit their own candles,
Each followed a star of his own,
And there in his own light’s glimmer
He worshiped a God of his own!
By its light my own God I extol;
And by the dim flaming Menorah
I seek to discover my soul.
Its oil is a life-giving fountain,
Its wick as our union appears,
And I see by its flame ascending
The course of our future years!