Its glow and heat are but my bane.
The Autumn has no charms for me,
From cold and ills I ne'er am free.
When Winter brings its snow and frost,
Oh, then I am undone and lost[[75-1]].
Another conspicuous feature of the Bechînath Olam is its frequent use of poetical metaphors, which the author employs with great aptitude and force. The eighth chapter of the book in question, beginning with the words: התבל ים זועף may fitly serve as an illustration of this, and the following free English translation of it will afford the reader at the same time an insight into the general contents of the whole poem. It runs as follows:—
“The world is as a boisterous sea of immense depth and width, and time forms a fragile bridge built over it. The upper end thereof is fastened to the ground by means of weak ropes, and its lower end leads to a place which is shone upon by the rays of the divine light, emanating from God's majesty. The breadth of the bridge is but one short span, and has no balustrade work to save one from falling over it. Over this narrow path, thou, O son of man, art compelled to go, and notwithstanding all thy might and glory, thou canst not turn either to the right or to the left. Now, threatened as thou art on both sides with death and destruction, how canst thou maintain thy courage, and how can thy hands remain firm? In vain dost thou pride thyself on the possession of vast treasures obtained by thee through violence and wickedness; for of what avail are they to thee when the sea rises, and rages, and foams, thus threatening to wreck the little hut (i.e. the body) wherein thou livest? Canst thou boast thou canst calm and subdue the powerful waves, or wilt thou try to fight against them? Drunk with the wine of thy vanity, thou art pushed hither and thither, until thou sinkest into the mighty abyss; and tossed about from deep to deep, thou wilt at last be merged in the foaming waves, and none will bring thee to life again.”
The ninth and eleventh chapters of the Bechînath Olam contain some passages which refer to the author's own sufferings, at the time of the expulsion of the Jews from France, and to the cowardice then displayed by some wealthy French Jews, who, in order to be permitted to remain in the country, and to retain their riches, had embraced Christianity. How shamefully these renegades behaved, in the face of the great calamity which had befallen their co-religionists, may be seen from the following passages, which occur in chapter XI:—
What care they for those gloomy envoys of fate?
They dance all the night, and they rise very late.