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From Cedar to Hyssop

I. THE PEASANT'S YEAR IN PROVERB AND SAYING

The Peasant's Year in Palestine has two chief divisions, Summer and Winter. "Six months summer and six months winter" (sitte shuhur sef sitte shuhur shita) as they say. We translate the word "shita" (lit: rain) by winter feeling how absurd it is so to call the glorious procession of spring months, but the peasant, of course, in his use of the word is thinking all the while of the rain, and is still hoping for a shower or two even as late as April. Spring and Autumn figure but little in folklore, the contrast being made commonly between Summer and 'Winter' as we may more happily translate it in the following verse:

"How did you leave them, O Summer?

I left them sunburnt and pleased,

Sitting under the vines.

How did you leave them, O Winter?

I left them yellow and grey with smoke,

Sitting by the braziers.[1]

Still there is the charming and well-known proverb of spring: "Moonlight and springtime come not every day" (Mush kull e1 ayyam qamr w rabi') and another, more used in Artas:

"Here comes summer and the world is spring

And the bullfrog trills in the wadi"

(Hall e1 sef w arbi' at el bladi

Sar e1 kurr fi1 wadi yinadi)

and the trilling of the bullfrog in spring is, they say, like the zagharit af joy the women raise over a bride.[2]

Love for the summer is also charmingly expressed in the saying: "The carpet of summer is wide" (Bsat e1 sef wasi').

Do all English children know why in summer the days are long and the nights short, whereas in winter the days are short and the nights long? This is the story that mothers in Artas tell to their little ones in explanation. "One day our Prophet Mohammed, God's peace upon him, passed by and saw the ploughmen ploughing. He said to them 'Peace be to you.' Only the oxen replied. The Prophet said: 'May God cut your days short and lengthen your nights.' Later the man went to plant dura. The Prophet saluted them again. None answered. He said: 'May God lengthen your days and cut short your nights.' "

[1]

So in the time of the winter ploughing the oxen have comfort and long rest for their courtesy to the Prophet, while in the time of the summer planting men for their discourtesy toil the long day through and have scant rest at night.

The peasant has no written calendar; why should he have? He says: "Nature conceals not her times" '(El dunya ma bitkhabbish awanha). When the rain or the sun or the right moment to plough comes, it is there for him to use if he be wise in landcraft. He has indeed names for different seasons, and these have been collected and formed into a calendar of months, but they are very fluid still, varying in different districts and even in different villages. Some seem definitely fixed, like Shbat for February and Adar for March, and are used by all cultivators, but others are so vague that it is obvious that they still denote an indefinite season rather than a month of days. For instance, Ejrad, a name meaning 'bareness,' applicable to the time when the land lies stripped of her green veils, is connected by some observers with November, by others with December, or January, or both. The names that we give here in our brief study of this Nature Calendar[3] are those known in Artas, and even in that village their use cannot be said to be very definitely fixed.

Names of Months used in Artas :

Ejriid thani	November
Kanun el sghir	December
Kanun el kebir	January
Shbat	February
Idar	March
Khamis	April
Jamad	May
Eqlash	June
Tammuz	July
Ab	August
Elul	September
Ejrad auwal	October

[2]

Dr. Dalman has compiled several of these calendars, as used by Christian and Moslem fellahin, and by Jewish and Beduin cultivators, many of the names in them come down from the old Syrian calendars, while the months are kept according to the Gregorian calendar. It is interesting to compare this survival of ancient use with the practice of the cultivators of Egypt who work still according to the Coptic months. This is, no doubt, because the old calendars are true "Nature calendars" abiding by the seasons, while the Moslem calendar moves ever round and round.

In our list the year is taken as beginning in November while in others (e.g. the modern Syrian) it is earlier still, thus being very near to the present Jewish New Year, which is in October.

The New Year. Palestine, a land in which many feast days may be enjoyed, is not lacking in Feasts of the New Year, the Moslem Year, the Jewish Year, the Church Year and the Government Year all have a New Year's Day.

The peasant, too, has his New Year's Day, though no calendar foretells it. "The last of the year is the last of summer, the first of the year is the first of winter" (literally, "the first of the rain"). (Akhir el sane akhir el sef, auwal el sane, auwal el shita). His New Year's Day is the day of the first rains and a true feast of the heart. It is said that once the Rabbi Joshua ben Korcha was asked by a pagan if ever pagan and Jew could rejoice together and he replied: "When the first rain falls."[4] This rain of mercy, this 'rahme,' as it is often called, should come early in November. In this reckoning the peasant ignores the light early rains of September; they may help his crops, but are likely to bring cattle disease, and they only have meaning to him as precursors of the true rains, the "opening rains" (matar el eftuh).

November (Ejrad thani)

November then, because of the coming of the rains, is the first month of the year, and the ideal moment in it for New Year's Day is the feast of Lydda ('Id Lidd), November 3-16. If the rain comes several days earlier or later it is good and welcome, but if it come on or near the Feast itself then indeed 'the rain comes right' (Ausamat el dunya), as they say, a rather untranslatable phrase, from a word used for this rightly timed rain (El Wasm).

[3]

Now the Feast of Lydda is the Feast of St. George himself, the Dragon slayer, who is now regarded as a rain bringer. Christian peasants say when it thunders "St. George's mare gallops in the sky" (Faras Mar Girgis bittarid fil sama) and Moslems say it is Khalil, or more usually El Khadr (El Khadr bittarid fil sama), for St. George is in Palestine nearly related to the Green One (El Khadr el Akhdar), the Immortal Wanderer. And both are related to Mar Elias, Elijah of the Jews, supplanting who knows what more ancient deity of weather and the growth of young green things. The following are sayings concerning this time of rain and ploughing: "At the Feast of Lydd plough and pick" (olives) ('Id Lidd uhtrut w jidd).[5] "Jidd, jidd," is the cry to the lads who beat the olive trees with their long poles till the fruit falls; a primitive proceeding most harmful to the young shoots.

Another proverb is: "At the Feast of Lidd pull fellah, pull; you can't keep back the rains" (Fi 'id Lidd shidd ya fellah, shidd – Ma biki lil shita didd) and another: "Who ploughs not in November regrets it at harvest time" (Ille ma buhrut fil ejrad – Willa and el salibe behrad).[6] The meaning of the latter proverb is clear, but the wording is obscure; we think" el salibe" refers to the Feast of the Cross, but it is sometimes taken to mean the heaps of corn on the threshing floor, often marked with the sign of the cross.[7]

What a month of work is this first month of the year – plough and rain and rain and plough, and the olive picking going on in between, but when the sunny days come after the rain they are so perfect for ploughing and the work goes so softly and rapidly that the villagers call them "Ploughman's Profit" (Wafr el harrat).

December (Kanun el sghir)

Here comes rain and winter weather in earnest, on which these Jerusalem sayings are a comment: "Always there is rain on the Feast of St. Barbara" (December 4th) (Daiman biji shita 'ala 'id Burbara) and "At the Feast of St. Barbara water rises in the mouse's hole" ('Id Burbara titla' el moiya, min khzuq el fara.)[8]

There is also the courageous cry "Rain and rain more, our house is of iron" (Ishti w zidi - betna hadidi), and the praise of the fertilising power of the month:, "The power of kanun, all trees are made fertile" (Admet kanun – kulle she min el ashjar biksab.[9] 'Though December has storms, there are always bursts of sunshine in between, but for these the peasant has no good word. "December sun is as the pest," he says ().

[4]

Through all this stormy time there are vines to be pruned and olives to be planted (though often in Artas this has to be left till January) and the ploughing goes on and the early winter sowing (El afir). Sometimes the wheat is sown first, sometimes beans, then barley, kirsene and lentils. There is a saying, "At Christmas give back the lentils to the children" ('Id el milad – rudd el 'adas lil aulad), meaning that lentils should be sown by Christmas, and that as it is now too late to do so the children may just as well eat them up.

The midwinter sowing (el wasta) should also be got in at the end of the month.

January (Kanun el Kebir)

At the end of December and the beginning of January the cold increases and worst of all days in the year are supposed to be the forty days after Christmas, called the Mirba 'aniya: "O Lord, shield us from the coming down of the Mirba 'aniya" (Ya Rabbi najjina min nazlat el Mirba 'aniya). Other sayings speak of the children crying of cold: "Oh, oh, how cold I am. No little sticks to burn have I" (Hu Hu ya bardi –qashushit hatab ma 'andi), and warn the traveller to stay at home by the fire. "In January stay at home, mad one!" (Fi kanun – kinn 'and ahlak ya majnun), and: "In dead January sit in your house and wrap yourself up head and all" (Fi kanun el asamm – uq'ud fi betak w intamn),[10] and again: "Between Epiphany and Christmas do not travel, sensible man" (Ben el ightas w el milade - la tsafir ya hadi).

Now the north wind blows, "All is good that comes from the north except the people and the wind," as they say in Syria. But the peasant has his word of praise again for another blessing to the land, if a painful one: "Snow is the salt of the earth" (El telj milh el ard), meaning all that is best for it. "And if we freeze too much," as the Beduin said to Dr. Dalman, "then we dance the dabke," a good kind of dance for the purpose, with its stamping of feet and clapping of hands. The outlook brightens at the approach of Epiphany, for if "At Christmas the cold exceeds itself, at Epiphany half of the cold has been baptised," i.e., immersed=disappeared (Fi el Milade – bizid el bard eziade - Fil Ightas – Byughtus nuss el bard).[11]

And still in spite of the weather the late sowing (el wakhri; el ightasi) must be got in somehow before it is too late.

[5]

February (Shbat; Shubat)

The word Shabat means 'to splash' and February has the reputation of a wild and stormy month. "February, the striker, no bonds holds" (Shbat el khabbat, ma 'aleh rbat); and "February sun is like a club on the head" (Shemsat shbat tkhalli elras mitl el mukhbat); yet: "If he splashes or he strikes the smell of summer is with him" (In shbat willa khabbat, rihet el sef fih). Or another Artas version: "February the striker leaps and bangs and the smell of summer is with him" (Shbat el Khabbat Bushbut w bukhbut W rihet el sef fi). Sowing in February, especially late in the month, is ill thought of: "Who sows in February reaps wind" (Iiladi yizra' fi shubat, ma yahsud illa-ddurat);[12] and "The cyclamen and anemone are up, put away your seed, O fool" (ili'el zouzou w el hannun, Dubb ibdarak ya majnun). "Shame the hens into laying by flinging the red anemones at them and cry, The flowers are up and we have laid no eggs; O our shame and our blame from our friend'" (Tili'el hannun w ma bidna; ya 'ebna ya 'azaritna min sahib na).[13] But in spite of the flowers and occasional blazes of sunshine the last days of February and the first days of March have a special reputation far storminess. They are called the "Borrowed Days" (El Mustaqridat), and the fallowing story is told about them in Artas.

"The old wife was sitting in the wadi, minding her sheep and spinning. Now the end of February was near and little rain had fallen. The Beduins said to her, 'Come out from the wadi, for the rain may came and sweep you away.' She 'would not listen to them and mocked at the month of February. 'O, February, you wild fellow, that on your hand' (Ya Shbat el ldbbat, hada fi kaffak), meaning a blow with her spindle. February in a rage cried to his cousin March, 'O my cousin, help me, lend me three of your days of rain,'

"Three of yours and four of mine,

And we will make the wadi sing"

(Telatatan minnak w arba'tan minni,

w binkhalli el wadi yeghanni).

So March lent February three days' rain, and they flooded the valley and swept the old wife away with her spindle and her sheep, right dawn to the Dead Sea."

[6]

There are many variants of this story; the following was heard in Jerusalem. "The old wife (el ajuza) was content that February was at an end, because she had burnt all her wood except her bobbin winder and her spindle. She cried, 'Go away, February, we will beat you with the washing bat' (Ruh ya shubat khabbatnak bi mukhbat) and, saving your presence (bala kafyi), she added remarks much ruder than these. February was angry and he had yet three days to run. So he cried to his cousin March, 'O san of my uncle, four of thine and three of mine, and we'll burn up the old wife's winder (Ya ibn 'ammi arba'tm minnak w telatan minni li nehrak lil ajuz el la'ini dulabha). March gave February four days' rain and the old wife burnt up her bobbin winder and her spindle and still she couldn't keep warm. On the third day she died of the cold."

Another version is given by Père Jaussen from among the Bedu, where the old wife appropriately taunts February with not having been able to kill her or even bend her tent pole. February borrows three days from March and raises such a storm that the old wife is swept away, tent and all, and is drowned in the flood.

Similar stories are found in other lands;[14] and the name, at any rate, as far away as England. The "Borrowed Days" in English folklore are the last three days of March and the first three days of April.

The following rhyme is given by Brand in his Popular Antiquities (1813):

"March borrows of April

Three days and they are ill;

April returns them back again

Three days and they are rain."

Also this curious Scottish one:

"March said to Aperill,

I see three hags upon a bill.

But lend your first three days to me,

And I'll be bound to gar them dee.

The first it sall be wind and weet,

The next it sall be snaw and sleet,

The third it saIl be sic a freeze,

SaIl gar the birds stick to the trees.

But when the Borrowed Days were gone

The three silly hogs cam hirpling hame."

In which we are glad to see, after the triumph of the cruel month over the poor old wife in Palestine, that in Scotland he was worsted by three silly sheep.

[7]

March (Adar; Idar)

March seems to have mare proverbs than any other month, probably because the name is a good one to rhyme with. In spite of the riot of flowers and sunshine the proverbs give some warnings; "March, the faithless one, father of earthquakes and rains, has still seven great snowfalls as well as little ones,"[15] and "Here is March, an hour of sun, an hour of rain, and an hour of the partridge calling" (Hada adar – sa'a shems w sa'a amtar w sa'a imqaqat el shunnar). But most of the proverbs have the breath of spring in them, like this one: "The weather in March is like a bride in her house" (El dunya fi idarha – mitl el arus fi darha). At Arias several are strung together in a kind of verse:

"In March the leaves of the fig trees comet out like the ears of a mouse.

In March pull up crocus night and day.

Now shortens the night and lengthens the day.

The shepherd goes out over the walls.

O mistress make my loaves larger.

The milk of March is forbidden to the infidels.

In March the shepherd warms himself without fire.

In March comes out the little snake and the partridge lays eggs.

In March put out the clay braziers in front of the house.[16]

Happily these rhymes[17] are easy to understand. The reason for haste in pulling up and devouring crocus is given on p. 43, and the forbidden milk is an allusion to fasting in Lent; only the snake is a puzzle. The word used is 'anqa,' the classical word for the phoenix but in Artas it is thought to mean some kind of little snake, which now appears from its hole, warmed by the sun.

April (El Khamis; Nisan)

April is a month as fair as high summer with us in England, but the Palestinian is ever hankering after a little more rain. He laments that usually "in April all green things dry up" (Fi Khamis kull khadra tabis), and says, "April rain is worth every brook that flows" (Shetvi nisan ibtiswa kull selin sal), and "A drop of rain in April is worth the plough and the yoke of oxen and the hen and the chickens" (El nuqta fi nisan Ibtiswa el sikke w el faddan W el qruqqa w el sisan). April sun has also its word of praise, "February sun for my daughter-in-law, March sun for my daughter, April sun for my parents" (Shems shbat la kinnti Shems idar labinti Shems nisan lasinnti),[18] for now the old folks can safely enjoy sitting outside against the walls sunning themselves. "In April the young girl fills her dress"

[8]

(Fi shahr el khamis El sabbaiya bitmelli el qamis), for it is a healthy time when all grow fat. This is the month of roses and the month of weddings, though in Artas the folk are sometimes too poor to afford an April wedding and must wait till after harvest. "Who is married in January licks the cooking pot; who is married in April eats meat and eggs and milk and vegetables" (Ille bitjauwiz fi kanun Bilhas el iqdur Ille bitjauwiz fi nisan Bokul lahm w beid halib w khudran). But then who would be fool enough to be married in January? "The wedding of mad ones is in January" ('Urs el majanin fil kawanin).

It is in April that the mysterious Thursday of the Plants (Khamis el Nabat) usually falls; it is fourteen days before Good Friday (old style). The name is known in Artas, but whatever significance it had in olden days is now forgotten.[19] In some villages young girls still go out on this Thursday afternoon to the fields and gather sweet smelling herbs and flowers. While cutting the herbs they say, "Crack and scratch; what medicine for the head, O plant?" (Taqsh w natsh shu dawa el ras ya shajarah). On their return home they place their flowers in water and leave them all night under the open sky in order that the stars may act upon them. With this water they wash their hair on the Friday following, believing that this practice will increase their beauty and chances of marriage.[20]

In the same month comes another almost forgotten festival, that of the 'Nayruz' at Nablus mentioned by Père Jaussen.[21] The girls used once (and 'tis said some still do) go at dawn to the growing corn fields and bathe in the dew. So also in England once the girls gathered dew at May Day to enhance their beauty, believing with the folk song that, '' 'Tis dabbling in the dew makes the milkmaids fair."

May (Jmad)

The word Jmad means hardening, here probably an allusion to the hardening of the grain in the ear. This month and June are the harvest months and their individuality seems almost completely swallowed up in that joyful time, "Harvest is the welcome month" (El hasidi shahr el marhaba) as they say. We have not even found one proverb recording their names, but Stephan has one with another Palestinian name for May, Ayyar.

"In May take your sickle and cut with might"

(Fi Ayyar ihmil manjalak w ghar).

[9]

June (Eqlash)

"Why do you call this month Eqlash?" we asked, and the answer came "Because of the putting in of the sickle" (Bin sir inqolesh). The sickle here spoken of is the qalush, a small, strongly curved one, mostly used by women. The sickle proper, used by men, called manjal, is much larger. At harvest time both sickles figure in the songs, examples of which are given in the section on Corn.

July (Tammuz)

"In July water boils in the pot" (Pi Tammuz ibtighli el maiye fil kuz) – so the proverb notes the power of the summer sun. The joy of harvest continues all through this month, for threshing in Palestine is a long drawn out business. One craft peculiar to the time is the making of pottery by the women of certain villages, notably Ramallah and Sinjil. They say that the hot weather gives the best chance for their huge decorated waterpots, all formed by hand without a wheel, to dry quickly and so preserve their shape well.

Towards the end of the month (about the 20^th) comes the Feast of Mar Elyas (Elijah) and excursion trains supplement other means by which pilgrims convey themselves from all parts of Palestine to attend the Festival at the shrine of Elijah on Mount Carmel. We have already noted the strange power over the weather possessed by this composite saint. "At the Feast of Mar Elyas the clouds are created" (Fi'id Mar Elyas bitkhallak el ghem), says the proverb, and in Galilee also they look forward to the time of the rains and say "Saint Elias says to the summer, 'Sweep' (away)." But though the rain bringer may wish to sweep summer away it usually remains and the sun continues to blaze and 'boil the water in the pot' for long enough after his feast.

August (Ab)

"If August passes and you have not winnowed, then the wind has betrayed you" (In mar ab w ma dharret, 'iddak bil hawa ingharret). Harvest and threshing ought to be all over by now even in the high lands. This and September are the months of the gathering of grapes and figs, the treading of grapes for wine, the making of grape treacle (dibs), the drying of raisins and figs (this at Artas may not be possible till the end of September) and the storing away of all harvested produce. "When August comes, eat grapes without care" (In hall ab Kul 'eneb w la tahab), but here Artas, usually late, is early and begins the pleasure of eating grapes while they are still green. The vineyards and gardens all through these months are full of happy people, camping out and picnicking, "eating grapes without care."

[10]

September (Elul; Elun; Shahr el Salib)

"When comes September down comes the oil into the olives" (Lin hall elun Binzil el zeit fi el zeitun) so they say in Artas, though in other parts of the country an earlier date is given." "On the Feast of the Virgin, Mother of Light, streams the oil into the olives" (Fi 'id el 'Adra umm el nur Bisubb el zeit fi el zeitun), that is, on August 15^th.

The name Shahr el Salib, Month of the Cross, comes from the Feast of the Cross on September 15^th (Old Style), the day when the wood of the True Cross was placed in the Martyrium of Constantine at Jerusalem in the year 336 A.D. The name is known at Artas and we have it in a proverb warning all not to trust to the weather at that date (Fi'id el salib la tamin el sebib). But it is much commoner in other parts of the country,[22] particularly of course in Christian villages. There they say "Easter Feast and go out, Cross Feast and bring in," i.e., the cattle (Aiyid w itla' Salib w a 'ber) and give the sage reminder, "If there is lightning at the Cross Feast it lacks not rain" (In barqat 'ala el salib Ma bitghib). With or without lightning "The end of September is wet with rain" (Tarf elul hil shita mahllul).

October (Ejriid auwal. The name Tishrin auwal is also known)

"In October, the grapes and figs are getting over" (Fi tishrin bighabbir cl 'enab w el tin) they say sadly in Artas, but in other parts of the country, in spite of the warnings of the proverbs about the Feast of the Cross, the promise is made, "Between October and November there is another summer" (Ben Tishrin w Tishrin fi sef tani),[23] as it were our 'St. Martin's little Summer.' In this month the peasant prepares as best he may for the coming of the rains, with cultivation of olive yards and vine yards, and an early ploughing if possible. He is aided in this preparation by the East wind, which, though not much loved, is believed to "sweep the earth clean," until at last it veers to the longed for South West, the rain falls and again the Peasant's Year begins'"

[11]

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[2] Other commentators translate this, "And the donkey brays in the wadi," but we, and women in Artas, prefer the more poetical version.

[3] See Dalman "Arbeit und Sitte," p. 21; Canaan, "Folklore of the Seasons," J.P.O.S., vol. 3, and Stephan, "The Division of the Year in Palestine," J.P.O.S., vol. 2, p. 159,

[4] "עובד כוכבים אחד שאל את רבי יהושע בן קרחה א"ל אתם יש לכם מועדות, ואנו יש לנו מועדות, בשעה שאתם שמחים אין אנו שמחים, ובשעה שאנו שמחים אין אתם שמחים, ואימתי אנו ואתם שמחים בירידת גשמים" [בראשית רבה (וילנא) פרשה יג ד"ה ו] [י.פ.]

[5] At Artas it is more usually "Plough and tear" (Ehrut w kidd).

[7] See Dalman op cit. p. 165, and Canaan, "Zeitschrift des dentschen Palastina-Vereins," 1913, p. 278.

[8] The Feast of Barbara is not much thought of in Artas.

[9] Not known in Artas; cf. Dalman, op. cit. p. 178.

[11] Epiphany is the time of baptisms: it is then that the Feast of the Baptism of Our Lord is celebrated at the River Jordan. It is rather surprising to find proverbs about Christmas and Epiphany in common use in a Moslem village like Artas, but the village is close to Bethlehem and the mothers all take their babies to be blessed at the Manger, and hence have a familiarity with Christian feasts.

[13] The custom is known in Artas but the words are from Ramallah.

[14] The story is known in modern Greece and Malta. See Dalman, "p. cit., p. 185.

[17] Versions of these rhymes are given by Dalman, op. cit., p. 287.

[21] Jaussen, "Naplouse." Naw Ruz is the Persian New Year's Day; the same name is also used for the Egyptian spring festival, Shem el Nessim. See Nawrnz, Coptic New Year, M. A. Murray, Ancient Egypt, Pt. III., 1921.