A SONG OF REDEMPTION
SURELY a limit boundeth every woe,
But mine enduring anguish hath no end;
My grievous years are spent in ceaseless flow,
My wound hath no amend.
O’erwhelmed, my helm doth fail, no hand is strong
To steer the bark to port, her longed-for aim.
How long, O Lord, wilt Thou my doom prolong?
When shall be heard the Dove’s[27] sweet voice of song?
O leave us not to perish for our wrong,
Who bear Thy Name!
Wherefore wilt Thou forget us, Lord, for aye?
Mercy we crave!
O Lord, we hope in Thee alway,
Our King will save!
Wounded and crushed beneath my load I sigh,
Despised and abject, outcast, trampled low;
How long, O Lord, shall I of violence cry,
My heart dissolve with woe?
How many years without a gleam of light
Has thraldom been our lot, our portion pain?
With Ishmael[28] as a lion in his might,
And Persia as an owl of darksome night,
Beset on either side, behold our plight
Betwixt the twain.
Wherefore wilt Thou forget us, Lord, for aye?
Mercy we crave!
O Lord, we hope in Thee alway,
Our King will save!
SOLOMON IBN GABIROL, 1050.
(Trans. Nina Salaman.)