Mariage juif a Mogador-fran-angl

At the closing of Shabbat

 We celebrate Lilt t-hmir

An undertaking that all admire

We eat, we drink, and we praise,

 While the Andalousian orchestra plays.

Then we present to the couple a clay container,

In which is placed yeast – Hmira – and flour.

The fiancée puts her gloved hand in the bowl,

 The young man lightly puts in his own.

 The two hands stir, and touch together,

The Paitan sings with a voice from heaven.

Suddenly, the Zgharit stridently sounds,

 The fiancés exchange glances.

We enjoy the delicacies, a fine repast,

And drink ’til we see the bottom of the cask.

Then, each guest steps up

He quips and laughs,

And places in the bowl his gift,

Then quietly leaves, and asks for pardon.

The mixing of Hmira17 is an omen

For the success of the marriage-to-be,

Together they will build their house,

Together they will live in peace.

The next day, Sunday,

Preparations commence.

We borrow from neighbors

Tables, chairs and sundries.

 With all the silverware put out

 We scrub, gesticulate, and shout.

There is with us a lovely custom,

Taking place on the Monday,

Two days before the wedding,

When the parents of the groom

Come to the parents of the bride.

The rabbis are also there

And the closest of their friends.

Around a table all sit down.

The rabbis tell the groom "Come close!"

This is a solemn point in time

When we invoke the terms of Tenaim

By a clasping of hands confirmed.

The young girl thus becomes his Kinyan,

The young man declaring to her :

I treat this Kinyan as a sincere decree

And commit myself to faithful be

In prosperous times and in difficulty.

On Tuesday eve

– Listen closely to me –

It is the Lilt el henna,

The night of the Henna

We prepare a great festivity

In the house, newly painted,

Of the much-loved fiancée.

The lamps glow,

The copper glints,

Tables overflow

With food and drink.

The Msem'inplay their melodies

We sing with them and we applaud.

The mothers are happy.

They announce triumphantly,

Tomorrow is the marriage day

 Anoint vour hands

 With henna dye."

Then someone amongst us

 Declares with emotion,

 "Come with me my, friends,

 Look, open-eyed,

Touch with all your fingers, Admire how we have prepared,

 Look how we have

 For the fiancee A magnificent Sora made."

Then everyone goes

To the room across

And there we see.

.. My friends,

Hats off,

Lhiba! It's marvelous!

 Splendid furniture,

 Sparkling jewels,

Elegant gowns,

Finely embroidered tablecloths,

Trays, place settings and candelabras,

 Boxes of Ar-ar, mother-of-pearl and marble!

Suddenly,

Everyone is quiet.

A great silence falls

As the fiancee, fair and delicate,

Returns from the ritual bath.

Gentle and blushing,

The young girl's

Lashes brush her cheeks,

And, in her mother's arms,

Comfort seeks.

Overcome by so much grace,

Her mother, with a loving embrace,

Consoles her with tenderness,

And together they cry

With sorrow,

Or perhaps with joy.

Then the mother

 Shows her a mirror

And tells her kindly, "My daughter, my girl,

 This face here You will see no more!"

The young girl looks at herself

With distress

הירשם לבלוג באמצעות המייל

הזן את כתובת המייל שלך כדי להירשם לאתר ולקבל הודעות על פוסטים חדשים במייל.

הצטרפו ל 155 מנויים נוספים

יולי 2016
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