From Jewish Stories and Hebrew Melodies, "Disputation," Rabbi Judah of Navarre continues:


"There's the fish, Leviathan,

Dwelling deep beneath the sea;

For an hour each day the Lord

Frolics with him sportively–


"Every day except the ninth

Day of Ab, the day of woe,

When his temple lay in ashes;

On that day he feels too low.


"This Leviathan's a hundred

Miles in length of giant whale,

Fins as big as Og of Bashan,

Huge as cedars is his tail.


But his flesh is tasty, more so

Than a turtle's fresh from shore;

On the day of resurrection

God will spread a table for


"All the pious, wise, and upright

Chosen souls from everywhere–

And the Lord God's favorite fish will

Furnish out the bill of fare,


"Partly with white garlic gravy,

Partly in a well-browned roux

Made with spicy wine and raisins-

Something like a seafood stew.


"Sizzling in the garlic gravy,

Bits of radish fizz and hiss–

I would wager, Friar, you would 

Relish fish prepared like this!


"God's cuisine is haute cuisine;

Take my counsel with élan:

Give them that old scrap of foreskin

And enjoy Leviathan."


Thus the rabbi– tempting, baiting,

Inly grinning at his ploy;

And the Jews were all ready

Waving knives with grunts of joy,


But the monks clung to their natal

Faith and foreskins, in this matter;

They would not be separated

From the former or the latter.


When the Jew was through, the friar

Once more started. He exploded

Into insults: every statement

Was a chamberpot– and loaded.


Then the rabbi answered calmly,

Damping down his zealot's fire;

Though his heart was boiling over,

Yet he checked his rising ire.


He called on the Mishna's teachings,

Commentaries, notes, and tracts,

Citing from the Toufes Yontov

Many cogent quotes and facts.


But upon his ruffled hearing,

Ah, what blasphemies now fall!

Cries the monk: "The Tousfes Yontov

Doesn't mean a thing at all."


"That's the living end, oh God!"

Screams the rabbi, piqued and pale;

Suddenly his patience leaves him

And his mind goes off the rail.


"If you scrap the Tausfes Yontov,

What is left? Oh my, oh me!

Scourge, O Lord, this evildoer,

Punish this iniquity!"