Joseph Friedlander, comp. The Standard Book of Jewish Verse. 1917.
By S. Frug (Trans. Alice Stone Blackwell)The Talmud
A
Legends, tales that there I view,
In my mournful life and dreary
Oftentimes I turn to you.
On mine eyes sleep will not rest,
And I sit alone, and wretched,
With my head upon my breast,
In the azure summer night,
Memories amid my sadness
Then begin to glimmer bright.
Those sweet hours come back again
When I still was free from sorrow,
Free from anger, free from pain.
When I quaffed, without alloy,
Life’s first, best and sweetest chalice,
Freedom, mirthfulness and joy.
Pass again before mine eyes,
And the pages of the Talmud
In my memory arise.
All the lights and stars I see
Burning, shining in those pages;
They can ne’er extinguished be!
Have flowed o’er them in the past;
Sand has covered them and hid them,
Storms have rent them—still they last.
Still survive and perish not,
Although yellowed, torn and blackened,
Here a hole and there a spot.
Is a graveyard, old and hoar,
Where within the tomb lies buried
All that we shall see no more.