O how she sat alone: New laments for a beloved land

How do we mark Tisha B’Av when the walls have fallen again and Jewish communities of the Land of Israel are laid waste once again?

For centuries, the Biblical Book of Lamentations – Megillat Eicha – written in response to the destruction of the First Temple, has stood at the heart of Tisha B’Av. While the Biblical text has lost none of its power, over the generations, more lamentations – the Hebrew word is kinot – were written in response to the horrors and sufferings Jews experienced over time and place: the destruction of the Second Temple in 70 CE, the massacres of the medieval Crusades, the public burning of the Talmud in the 13th century, the terrible Spanish massacres of 1391, the Spanish expulsion of 1492, and on and on. In modern times, Haim Nahman Bialik’s monumental elegy for the Kishinev pogroms, Be-Ir Ha-Harigah, “In the City of Slaughter,” had a profound impact on the emergence of Zionism itself. Since the Holocaust, new kinot have been added to this sorrowful liturgy.

Following October 7th, I turned to two survivors of that day, Nurit Hirschfeld-Skupinsky of Nahal Oz and Liora Eilon of Kfar Azza. Both had recently sent me midrashic texts they had written about the war for the forthcoming second volume of Dirshuni: Contemporary Women’s Midrash, which I am currently editing. I asked Nurit and Liora if they would be willing and able to write Kinot for this coming Tisha B’Av because I could not imagine sitting in synagogue without marking in religious language the pain and mourning over the terrible event and its ongoing aftermath.

The powerful texts they sent, which my husband Yehudah Mirsky translated into English, somehow made the original biblical Book of Lamentations and the traditional Kinot of the centuries more vivid for me than ever. Intertwining the past with the present creates an echo that makes Nurit and Liora’s voices sound so loud. This shofar cry, so powerful and clear, is not there only for remembrance. These writers’ kinot are morally demanding. The House was destroyed and their houses as well. May we awaken in time to prevent a destruction of our Third House.

May the voices of these writers resound far and wide, and may this be its own small tikkun – repair – if such a thing is possible, for the endless hours that they and so many others spent in utter silence in their shelter rooms that day.

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O How your dwellings have been turned into ruins,
Your people become exiles in their own land?
O Betrayed land, your sons betrayed you,
They put their desires before all else,
They sealed your fate with their very tongues,
They abandoned you in their hearts, lost in their ways.

אֵיכָה הָפְכוּ מִשְׁכְּנוֹתַיִךְ לְעִיֵּי חֳרָבוֹת,
אֲנָשַׁיִךְ לְגוֹלִים בְּאַרְצָם?
הוֹי אֶרֶץ נִבְגֶּדֶת, בָּגְדוּ בָּךְ בָּנַיִךְ,
שָׂמוּ מַאֲוַיֵּיהֶם בְּרֹאשׁ מַעְיָנָם,
חָרְצוּ גּוֹרָלֵךְ בְּמוֹ לְשׁוֹנָם,
עֲזָבוּךְ בְּלִבָּם, תּוֹעִים בְּדַרְכָּם.

O How your Kibbutzim were destroyed, cities made desolate,
Your people dead, your fields wasting away.
Furrows ravaged, become fields of horror,
All eyes devastated, dried out of tears.

אֵיכָה חָרְבוּ קִבּוּצַיִךְ, עָרִים שָׁמֵמוּ,
אֲנָשַׁיִךְ מֵתִים, שְׂדוֹתַיִךְ נָשַׁמּוּ.
נִירִים רֻטְּשוּ, הָפְכוּ שְׂדוֹת אֵימָה,
עֵין כָּל חָרְבָה, יָבְשָׁה מִדִּמְעָה.

Your sons, daughters butchered undefended,
Fair maidens hauled into captivity.
And the plotters standing before them
Whispering, rustling, and the land was silent

בָּנַיִךְ, בְּנוֹתַיִךְ נִטְבְּחוּ בְּלִי מָגֵן,
אֶל שִׁבְיָן הוּבְלוּ עַלְמוֹת חֵן.
וְעוֹמְדִים מִנֶּגֶד חוֹרְשֵׁי הַמְּזִמָּה
לוֹחֲשִׁים, רוֹחֲשִׁים, וְהָאָרֶץ דָּמְמָה

Woe unto you, you cowards,
Sitting carelessly in your cushioned chairs,
Entrusted with the lives of beloved captives
While mothers and fathers are wrapped in their grief.

אֲבוֹי אַתֶּם, מוּגֵי הַלֵּבָב,
הַיּוֹשְׁבִים בְּכִסְּאוֹתֵיכֶם, עַל עַצְמוֹת הַמּוֹשָׁב,
אֲמוּנִים עַל חַיֵּי יַקִּירִים חֲטוּפִים
עֵת אִמָּהוֹת וְאָבוֹת בְּאֶבְלָם עֲטוּפִים.

We will yet return and rebuild you, the soil of our homeland
We will yet return and sing in your fields a joyous song
Your sons will yet return to love and forgive
Your daughters will yet return to complete the thankful song
For neighbors and fellows who had become our enemies,
When our eyes will see peace between us.

עוֹד נָשׁוּב וְנִבְנֵךְ אַדְמַת מוֹלֶדֶת,
עוֹד נָשׁוּב וּנְרַנֵּן בִּשְׂדוֹתַיִךְ שִׁיר מִזְמוֹר
עוֹד יָשׁוּבוּ בָּנַיִךְ לֶאֱהֹב וְלִסְלֹחַ,
עוֹד תָּשֹׁבְנָה בְּנוֹתַיִךְ הַלֵּל לִגְמֹר
עַל שְׁכֵנִים, עַל רֵעִים, שֶׁהָיוּ לְאוֹיְבֵינוּ,
כַּאֲשֶׁר תֶּחֱזֶינָה עֵינֵינוּ, בַּשָּׁלוֹם בֵּינֵינוּ.

And we will cast a prayer together for borders of tranquility,
For becoming good neighbors, for leaders with humility
That we will respect each other, brothers and sisters
When you will sprout again, O land, grain and wheat

וּתְפִלָּה נִשָּׂא יַחַד לִגְבוּלוֹת שֶׁל שַׁלְוָה,
לִשְׁכֵנוּת טוֹבָה, לְמַנְהִיגִים עִם עֲנָוָה
שֶׁנְּכַבֵּד אִישׁ אָחִיו, אִשָּׁה אֲחוֹתָהּ,
עֵת תַּצְמִיחִי שׁוּב, אֶרֶץ, דָּגָן וְחִטָּה.

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These Lamentations will appear in Dirshuni: Contemporary Women’s Midrash Vol. 2.

Printouts of the kinot are available in Google Docs for A4 paper size and for Letter paper size.