Rabbi Nachman and Poetry

From David Sears, Shir Na'im: A Song of Delight (Orot 2005)

     Rabbi Nachman of Breslov's astounding creativity and spiritual vision took many forms: his uniquely kaleidoscopic Torah discourses, surrealistic stories of kings and lost princesses, trenchant aphorisms, enigmatic dreams and visions, and haunting, profound melodies. Even his dancing—an activity he understood as a vehicle for receiving and imparting divine wisdom—was said to have been of incomparable beauty.1 Therefore, it should not surprise us that Rabbi Nachman spoke of poetry, as well.

     Rabbi Nathan mentions that Rabbi Nachman and his disciples were once discussing rhymed verse (Yiddish, gram; plural gramen). Rabbi Nachman remarked, "Since the entire world follows this practice, there must be something to it." He then quoted the verse, "And He looked for justice, but behold, affliction! For righteousness, but behold, an outcry!" (Isaiah 5:7). In Hebrew, this verse contains two rhymed word plays.2 Rabbi Nachman even composed poetry, as the Shir Na'im attests. In so doing, he implicitly demonstrated that the art of verse-craft, so prized by the anti-religious maskilim of his day, deserves a place of honor in the religious sphere, as well.

     In the Tale of the Burgher and the Pauper, the Emperor's Daughter, the story's protagonist, is skilled in the art of poetry. The test that the beautiful young maiden puts before each suitor is to recite a poem, to which she responds with a poem of her own.3 Thus, we see that poetry is bound up with the love relationship; it is a vehicle for the expression of the heart.

     The maskilim surely would have no problem with this. However, Rabbi Nachman, like other mystics, sees romantic love as a "fallen" aspect of the love of God.4 Thus, the symbolism of the lyrics exchanged by the Princess and her suitors alludes to poetry as an expression of the soul's desire for God.5 As we have mentioned earlier, Rabbi Nachman praised the Akdamut poem recited in the synagogue prior to the Torah reading that describes the revelation at Mount Sinai on the festival of Shavuot as such a "song of desire."6 This exemplifies the elevation of poetry to its proper place.

     The Tale of the Master of Prayer speaks of a royal court that includes a bard, or melitz in Hebrew, who is a master poet and orator. The story tells how a storm wind once wreaked havoc in the world, separating the members of the royal court and leaving them to wander the world in search of one another. Particularly tragic is the loss of the infant son of the Queen's Daughter. In the aftermath, the Royal Bard seeks to console the King and Queen, and then the Queen's Daughter. His words produce a sea of wine - the third sea in the story's description of the world after the storm wind, the other two being a sea of blood, produced by the Queen's tears, and a sea of milk, produced by the Queen's Daughter's breasts.8

     The seas of blood and milk seem to be associated with Chokhmah and Binah,8 while the sea of wine represents Da'at.9 This alludes to the Tree of Knowledge, which according to one Talmudic opinion, was a grapevine.10 Because the dichotomy of good and evil is an aspect of dualistic reality, the Tree of Knowledge is also a symbol of Malkhut, and wine, the intoxicating power of words. The Emperor's Daughter in the Tale of the Burgher and the Pauper may also be understood as symbolic of Malkhut, the feminine principle.11

     The Bard thus attempts to heal the cosmic rift brought about by the storm wind—and implicitly the sin of the Tree of Knowledge—through his poetic speech. In his commentary, Rabbi Aryeh Kaplan suggests that the Bard corresponds to the sefirah of Tif’eret and the biblical personage of Jacob, as the verse states, "The voice is the voice of Jacob."12 Therefore, poetry expresses the unification of Tif’eret and Malkhut. Through these symbols, Rabbi Nachman indicates the spiritual function of the poetry of the tzaddikim, which is to bring harmony to the universe.

     This is affirmed by another mention of poetry in Chayei Moharan. According to this source, Rabbi Nachman once remarked: "In order to create poésie (poetry), one must be able to say peh sie."13 In Yiddish, the third person feminine is sie ("she"). In other words, to be a master of holy speech—poet as prophet—one must be a true tzaddik; and in order to become a true tzaddik, one must be able to say “Peh!” (an exclamation of disgust similar to the English phew) to lust and free oneself of the craving for sensual gratification.14 (The word play does not work for women, but presumably the same concept applies.)15

     Poetry has an intrinsic association with prophecy, as we see throughout the biblical canon. Thus, Rabbi Nachman stresses that in order to attain this lofty spiritual level, one must purify the body of all physical desire. This is exemplified by the austerity of Moses mentioned in the first stanza of the Shir Na'im, and by that of Rabbi Nachman himself. It is likely that the poetry to which he referred in the word play poesie/peh-sie denotes his Torah lessons, which like poetry are multi-dimensional in their nuances of meaning and vividly imagistic throughout. The Shir Na'im, therefore, may be said to be a foretaste of the "real poetry": the teachings of Likkutei Moharan.

1. Chayei Moharan (Jerusalem: Keren R. Israel Dov Odesser, n.d.), pp. 59-60, par. 5.

2. Ibid. p. 402, par. 8. The word "justice” (mishpat) is contrasted with "affliction” (mispach); "righteousness” (tzedakah) is contrasted with "outcry” (tze'akah). See Rashi, Isaiah 5:7: “The holy spirit (ru’ach ha-kodesh) fell into the mouth of the prophet.”
At two different weddings, Rabbi Nachman quipped in rhyme. On one occasion, he observed, “Ot iz men a malakh / Ot iz men a galach” (Here he's an angel, here he's a priest). On the other occasion, he rhymed: “A patsh gechapt / Un freilich geklapt” (He received a slap, and beat [the drum] merrily). Rabbi Shmuel Halevi Horowitz, Avaneha Barzel in Kokhvei ‘Or (Jerusalem: Makhon Torat HaNetzach, 1998), pp. 433-434 (pars. 38-39).

3. Sippurei Ma’asiyot, Ma’aseh 10.

4. Likkutei Moharan II, 5:11. This is the normative rabbinic view of the Song of Songs; e.g. see Tif’eret Yisrael on Yadayim 3:5, et al.

5. Rabbi Abraham ben Nachman Chazan of Tulchin, Kochvei Ohr, pp. 125, 160; idem, Chokhmah u-Tevunah (Tel Aviv, n.d.), p. 89, par. 1. Cited in Rabbi Aryeh Kaplan, Rabbi Nachman’s Stories (Breslov Research Institute, 1983), p. 211.

6. Sichot ha-Ran, par. 256.

7. Sippurei Ma’asiyot, Ma’aseh 12.

8. See Kaplan, op. cit., p. 304.

9. This is suggested by the Master of Prayer's description to the Mighty Warrior of how in his travels he passed the places of the other members of the royal court. This appears to correspond to the ten sefirot in descending order, as indicated by Rabbi Nachman's remarks at the story's conclusion. For other interpretations of the “sea of wine,” see Kaplan, op. cit., p. 339.

10. Berakhot 40a.

11. Rabbi Nachman Goldstein of Tcherin, Rimzei ha-Ma'asiyot, Hashmatot.

12. Kaplan, op. cit., pp. 306, 326, 338.

13. Rabbi Nathan Sternhartz of Nemirov, Chayei Moharan ( Jerusalem: Keren R. Israel Dov Odesser, n.d.), p. 180, par. 31. The anecdote comes from Rabbi Nachman’s final days in Uman, where he was in direct confrontation with the Maskilim or freethinkers of that city. In that anecdote, Rabbi Nachman goes on to explain: “One who keeps company with harlots will waste [his] wealth (hon)” (Proverbs 29:3). In another context, the Rabbis interpreted the word hon (wealth) as if it were written garon (throat). They derived from the verse “Honor the Lord from your wealth (me-honekha)” the idea that you should give honor to the Lord from your throat (mi-geronekha), by offering sweet, melodious song. See Rashi, Proverbs 3:9; Yalkut Shimoni ad loc.; Midrash Tanchuma, Re’eh 12. Thus, we find that one who is lewd will lose the ability for holy song and poetry. If one is incapable of saying “Peh” to “Sie,” he will be unable to produce Poésie. The stringing of ideas contained in this anecdote is typical of the kind of associative thought process (call it “poetic thinking”) that imbues Rabbi Nachman’s magnum opus Likkutei Moharan.

14. The Talmud describes how at night the saintly Rav Gidal would sit near the mikveh (ritual bath) where he answered questions in halakhah for the women who came to immerse in order to resume marital intimacy. "Does this not affect you?" Rav Gidal's colleagues asked. He replied, "To me, they are like so many white geese." Rabbi Yochanan used to sit near the mikveh, as well. On their way home, the women would see the resplendent face of the tzaddik, and thus give birth to beautiful children (Berakhot 20a).

15. The Talmudic sages attest that during ancient times more than a million Jews were engaged in the prophetic mysteries, and according to one opinion, women constituted half of that number (Megillah 14a; Shir ha-Shirim Rabbah 4:22). Another support for this inference is that in the Breslov community it is customary for women, as well as for men, to recite the ten psalms of Rabbi Nachman's Tikkun ha-Kelali. Also see Likkutei Moharan II, 32 ("Yesh Tzaddikim Genuzim"), s.v. ve-da she-yesh yichuda tata'ah, which emphasizes the quest for holiness on the part of husband and wife alike.