Hymn For The Third Meal

By Yitzhak Luria

Translated By Peter Cole

Prepare the feast
of perfect faith,
the delight of the Holy King.
Prepare the feast of the King.

This is the feast
of the Lesser Presence;
the Ancient Eminence and Field of Apples
assemble with Him for the feast.

Sons of the Palace—
you who yearn
to behold the radiance
of the Lesser Presence—

be seated here
at this Sabbath table,
adorned and crowned
with the name of the King.

Exult in your being
part of this gathering
among the guardian
angels’ wings,

and rejoice now
within this hour
of favor which knows
not what anger brings.

Draw near me here—
see my power,
without the judgments
of judgment’s terror.

Those without
may not enter,
for they are dogs
of rancor and gall.

I hereby call
to the Ancient of Days
to summon His will
to drive them away—

for when His favor
in this room is shown,
the husks are rendered
null and void.

He drives them into
holes in the ground,
conceals them deep
in caverns of stone.

And so it is
now and till twilight—
within the Impatient
One’s delight.

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