Lyrics adapted by Frank DiGiacomo from the play by S. Ansky.
Based on THE DYBBUK, translation © 1974 by S. Morris Engel,
published by Nash Publishing Corporation, New York.

After the previous duet between Khannon and Hennakh, there is a knock at the synagogue door. Upon learning who is there, Khannon becomes visibly agitated, but restrains himself, ostensibly returning to his books; he exhibits great concentration in an effort not to look at Laia. The Messenger, silent throught the previous scene, uncovers his head and observes. Hennakh ushers in Laia, her friend Gittel and grandmother Fradeh.

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LYRICS
HENNAKH:
    Come in, and welcome.

LAIA:
    Hennakh, remember you promised
    to show me the old curtains which cover the Holy Ark.

FRADEH:
    Show her the curtains, Hennakh.
    Laia has promised to embroider new curtains
    for the anniversary of her mother’s death.
    She will embroider with fine gold and velvet,
    just as they did when I was a young girl.
    Lions and eagles shall adorn them,
    and when they are hung on the Holy Ark,
    her mother’s soul in Heaven will smile,
    will smile, will smile, and be happy once more.

HENNAKH:
    I shall bring them at once.

GITTEL:
    O Laia, aren’t you afraid to be in the synagogue at night?

LAIA:
    I have never been here at night except on Simkhas Torah;
    but that is a happy holiday, and the candles are all brightly lit,
    and the people are happy.
    But now, how sad everything seems.

FRADEH:
    A synagogue must be sad, my children.
    For the dead come here every night to pray at  midnight;
    and when they leave, their sorrows remain behind.

GITTEL:
    Oh, Granny, do not speak of the dead — it frightens us!

FRADEH:
    And every morning at daybreak, when the Almighty One
    weeps over the ruin of His Temple,
    His holy tears fall in the synagogues.

LAIA:
    How sad it is here, and how loving.
    I feel as if I never want to leave this place.

FRADEH:
    That is why the walls are stained with tears,
    and why it is forbidden to wash them away.

(KHANNON, unable to restrain himself, gazes at LAIA intently.)

LAIA:
    I would fall against these tear-stained walls,
    embrace them with my heart and hands,
    and ask them why they are so sad, and why they stand there,
    pensive, silent, and so lonely.

FRADEH:
    If you should try, the walls will become enraged
    and throw their stones in anger,
    if you should try, my children.

GITTEL:
    I am frightened here!
    It is so dark, so quiet and so lonely.
    It is so dark and lonely here.

FRADEH:
    The synagogue is very old, my child.
    They say it was found beneath the earth, already built.
    How many times was this place laid waste,
    how many times this city burned to ash,
    and only the synagogue remained unharmed!
    It alone remained unharmed!
    Once, long ago, the roof caught fire,
    and thousands of white doves came flocking down from Heaven,
    and with their little wings, fanned out the flames.

GITTEL:
    I know why you are sad, Laia.
    I know why you are sad.
    I know that today your father returned from Klimovka,
    and he drove a hard bargain with Barukh the tailor,
    and now the fourth match arranged for you has fallen through —
    what a heartbreak, what a heartbreak for you!
 
LAIA:
    Oh, how I wish! Oh, how I wish!
    I do not know what it is that I wish,
    but my heart is full to bursting this night,
    with sorrow and with pity, and with love!
    Oh, how I wish!

GITTEL:
    Look, Laia, that young man there is looking at you.
    How strangely he stares, how strangely he stares!

LAIA:
His name is Khannon. He is a student.

(HENNAKH enters carrying the treasured ancient curtains for the Holy Ark.)

HENNAKH:
    Here are the oldest ones, hundreds of years old,
    used only at the Passover.

FRADEH:
    Come, come, Laia.
    Come, my child etc.
    This is a holy time for you.
    Come here, my child, and kiss the Holy Scrolls.
    It is wrong to be a guest in God’s house
    and not to kiss His Holy Torah.
    Come, Laialeh, and kiss the Scrolls etc.
    Touch the embroidery so that your fingers may know
    the feel of what they should do.
GITTEL:
    He stares at you as though
    he was calling you to come to him
    with his eyes.
    I am sure he would like to come over,
    but doesn’t dare to.
    He is not sad: his eyes sparkle.
    He stares as if he were calling to you with his eyes to come to him.
    Laia, he is not sad, his eyes sparkle as he looks at you,
    his eyes, his eyes, his eyes.
    They are sparkling! They are sparkling, Laia, his eyes!
    See his eyes, how they call to you, call to you.
    See how he looks at you.
    His eyes sparkling, as if on fire, as if on fire!
    It is not proper
    that you should look back at him.

LAIA:
    Yes, he used to stay at our house.
    He is so pale and sad. He must be ill.
    His eyes! Ah, his eyes always sparkle. His eyes! His eyes!
    Ah, what eyes he has! Ah, his eyes!
    Ah, when he speaks to me, he can hardly catch his breath!
    And me, as well!
    Ah, his eyes, how they sparkle and change,
    as they look at me!
     And I can not keep from looking at him as well.
    Oh, how his eyes shine etc.

HENNAKH:    
    Two lions embroidered in heavy gold on stiff brown velvet.
    They hold in their paws the Star of David...
    Where does one see now such velvet, such gold?
    God’s people then were more skilled in their crafts;
    they showed their devotion by means
    most endearing to God and the Holy Rabbis.
    See here the marks of the tears of joy
    shed by those pious women of old
    as they thought on God’s wisdom
    and fashioned an image of His Glory!
    Take it, hold it, if you will.
    Come feel of the curtains, see the Holy Scrolls,
    and marvel at the skill of those who made them.
    See here the marks, etc.

MESSENGER:    
    How blind man is, how blind!
    Unable to see what is happening before his very eyes!
    All the world is blind, blind sheep following blind shepherds!
    If they were not blind, they would ask meaning not of each other,
    but only of Him Who is the Only Answer, of Him, of Him.
    I walk endlessly on this earth.
    I am a Messenger...my time is not my own.
    I would look away, but cannot,
    all the pain and anguish of these poor beings is drawn to me.
    Their cries pierce my body like sharp needles,
    and my strength is drained from me.
    Yet I walk on, and watch them,
    never warning them, nor holding back!
    I can not look away, but must watch!   

FRADEH:
    For she will embroider with fine gold and velvets,
    just as they did when I was a young girl.
    And when they are hung on the Holy Ark,
    her mother’s soul will smile, will smile and be happy once more.
    Come, Laialeh — let us kiss the Scrolls.