Anonymous (Akkadian): The Epic of Gilgamesh
The Plainspoken Classics - Scriptorium Press (First Edition, 2026)
An original AI translation made directly from the source language.
https://openscriptorium.com


======== Tablet I ========

He who saw the deep, the foundation of the land, who knew the ways, was wise in all things, Gilgamesh, who saw the deep, the foundation of the land, who knew the ways, was wise in all things. He explored everywhere the seats of power, and he came to know all matters of wisdom. He saw what was secret and uncovered what was hidden; he brought back a message from before the flood. He came a long distant road, and was weary but at peace. He set all his hardships on a monument of stone. He built the wall of ramparted Uruk, of hallowed Eanna, the sacred storehouse.
See its wall, which is like a strand of wool; gaze upon its parapet, which no one can equal. Take hold of the threshold, which is from ancient days; draw near to Eanna, the dwelling of Ishtar, which no later king, no man, can equal. Go up and walk on the wall of Uruk; inspect its foundation, examine its brickwork thoroughly. Is not its brick structure of fired brick, and did not the Seven Sages themselves lay its foundations? One square mile is city, one square mile is orchard, one square mile is claypit, and the open ground of Ishtar's temple: three square miles and the open ground comprise Uruk. Find the tablet-box of copper, undo its bronze lock.
Open the door to its secret, and take up the tablet of lapis lazuli and read it aloud — all that Gilgamesh went through, all his hardships. He surpassed all other kings, renowned in stature, a hero born of Uruk, a charging wild bull. He goes out in front, the leader, and he comes behind, the trust of his brothers, a mighty embankment, the protection of his troops, the raging flood-wave that destroys even walls of stone. Son of Lugalbanda, Gilgamesh, perfect in strength, son of the august Wild Cow, Ninsun. Gilgamesh is he, towering, perfect, terrible, who opened mountain passes, who dug wells on the flank of the mountain, who crossed the ocean, the wide sea, as far as the rising sun.
Gilgamesh is he, towering, perfect, terrible, who opened mountain passes, who dug wells on the flank of the mountain, who crossed the ocean, the wide sea, as far as the rising sun, who explored the world regions, seeking life, who reached by his strength Utnapishtim the distant, who restored the sanctuaries that the flood had destroyed, who established the proper rites for the teeming peoples. Who is there can rival him in kingship, and can say like Gilgamesh, 'I alone am king'? Gilgamesh was called by name from the day he was born; two-thirds of him is god, one-third of him is human.
The Lady of the Gods drew the shape of his body, the god Nudimmud brought his form to perfection. [...] his stature was majestic [...] his stature was eleven cubits, his chest was four cubits across. A nikkas-measure was the length of his foot, half a rod his stride, six cubits between his legs. His cheeks bore a beard three cubits long. His beard was thick as a field of barley, the hair of his head grew thick as barley too. When he grew tall, he was utterly perfect in beauty, perfectly formed for the standard of the earth.
In the sheepfold of Uruk he goes about, towering over all, lifting his head above them all like a wild bull. He has no rival; at the sound of his weapons his companions stand up. The young men of Uruk are gripped with dread in their chambers. Gilgamesh does not leave a son to his father; day and night he rages unchecked in his arrogance. Gilgamesh, the king of the wide peoples, is their shepherd, yet he does not leave a daughter to her mother — he is their wild bull, and they are the cows. Their complaint was heard again and again.
The mighty one, the renowned, the wise [...] does not leave the young bride to her bridegroom, the daughter of the warrior, the wife of the young man. The gods of heaven, the lords who possess understanding, kept hearing their lament [...]. They made a wild bull of arrogance rise up against him in ramparted Uruk. He has no rival; at the sound of his weapons his companions rise up. The young men of Uruk are gripped with dread in their chambers. Gilgamesh does not leave a son to his father; day and night he rages unchecked in his arrogance.
He is the shepherd of ramparted Uruk, Gilgamesh, the provider for the teeming peoples; he is their shepherd, and yet [...] them. The mighty one, the renowned, the wise [...] Gilgamesh does not leave the young bride to her bridegroom, the daughter of the warrior, the wife of the young man. The god Anu kept hearing their lament. They cried out to the great goddess Aruru: 'You, Aruru, you created mankind; now create the equal of him, let him match the storm of his heart. Let them contend with one another, so that Uruk may find peace.'
Aruru heard this and in her heart she conceived an image of Anu. Aruru washed her hands, pinched off clay, and threw it on the steppe. On the steppe she created Enkidu the warrior, offspring of silence, knit strong by Ninurta. Shaggy with hair was his whole body, he was endowed with locks like a woman, and the tresses of his hair sprouted thick like grain. He knew neither people nor land. He was clothed with a garment like the god of cattle, and with the gazelles he grazed on grass.
With the herds he jostled at the watering place, with the creatures of the water his heart was glad. A trapper, a hunting man, met him there, opposite the watering hole. One day, a second, and a third the trapper met him opposite the watering hole. The trapper saw him, and his face went rigid. He and his beasts came home, and he was frightened, he went stiff, he fell silent. […] his heart, his features grew wasted. There was grief in his belly, and his face was like one who has journeyed a long, distant road. The trapper opened his mouth and spoke, said to his father.
"Father, there is a fellow who has come down upon us — in the land his strength is the mightiest, his power is as hard as a meteorite of Anu. He roams continually over the mountain, continually he grazes with the herd, continually his feet are set toward the watering hole. I am afraid, and I dare not go near him. He filled in the pits that I had dug, he tore out the snares that I had laid, he let the beasts and creatures of the steppe slip from my hands — he will not let me do my work in the steppe." His father opened his mouth and spoke, said to the trapper.
"Go, my son, to Uruk, to the offspring of Gilgamesh's city […] over him […] his power is as hard as a meteorite of Anu. Take the road, set your face toward Uruk […] the might of a man. Go, my son, and take with you the harlot Shamhat. When the beasts draw near to the watering hole, let her strip off her garment and lay bare her ripeness. When he sees her he will draw close to her — and his beasts, who grew up on the steppe, will turn from him." For the counsel of his father […]
The trapper set out […] he took the road, he set his face toward Uruk. To King Gilgamesh he repeated his account: "There is a fellow who has come down upon us — in the land his strength is the mightiest, his power is as hard as a meteorite of Anu. He roams continually over the mountain, continually he grazes with the herd, continually his feet are set toward the watering hole. I am afraid, and I dare not go near him. He filled in the pits that I had dug, he tore out the snares that I had laid."
"He let the beasts and creatures of the steppe slip from my hands — he will not let me do my work in the steppe." Gilgamesh said to him, to the trapper: "Go, trapper, take with you the harlot Shamhat. When the beasts draw near to the watering hole, let her strip off her garment and lay bare her ripeness. When he sees her he will draw close to her, and his beasts, who grew up on the steppe, will turn from him." The trapper went with the harlot Shamhat, they took the road, they set out on the journey. On the third day they reached the appointed field. The trapper and the harlot sat down and waited there.
One day, a second day, they sat by the watering hole. The beasts came, they drank at the watering hole, the creatures came, his heart was glad in the water. And he, Enkidu, whose birthplace is the mountain, grazed on grass with the gazelles, jostled at the watering hole with the beasts, and with the creatures his heart was glad in the water. Shamhat saw him, the primitive man, the murderous fellow from the midst of the steppe. "There he is, Shamhat! Open your embrace, bare your ripeness, let him take your charms. Do not be afraid — take in his vigor."
"When he sees you he will draw close to you. Throw off your garment, and let him lie upon you. Perform for him, the primitive, the work of a woman — his beasts, who grew up on the steppe, will turn from him, and his desire will cling to you." Shamhat loosened her garments, she opened her embrace, and he took her charms. She did not draw back — she took in his vigor. She threw off her garment and he lay upon her. She performed for him, the primitive, the work of a woman, and his desire clung to her. For six days and seven nights Enkidu was roused, and he coupled with Shamhat.
When he was sated with her charms, he set his face toward his herd. But when they saw him, Enkidu, the gazelles bolted away, and the wild beasts of the steppe shied from his body. Enkidu had spent himself, his body was weary; his knees stood still, though his herd had run on. Enkidu was diminished, he could not run as before; but now he had understanding, wide was his mind. He turned back and sat at the feet of the harlot, watching the harlot's face, and to what the harlot spoke his ears listened. The harlot said to him, to Enkidu:
"You are handsome, Enkidu, you are like a god — why do you range the steppe with the wild creatures? Come, let me lead you into Uruk-the-Sheepfold, to the holy temple, the dwelling of Anu and Ishtar, the place where Gilgamesh is perfect in strength and, like a wild bull, towers over the young men." She spoke to him, and her words found favor; his own heart, knowing itself, sought out a friend. Enkidu said to her, to the harlot: "Come, Shamhat, take me with you,"
"to the holy, consecrated temple, the dwelling of Anu and Ishtar, the place where Gilgamesh is perfect in strength and, like a wild bull, towers over the young men. I will challenge him, and boldly … I will cry out within Uruk: I am the mighty one! […] I will alter destinies; he who was born on the steppe is mighty, he has strength. Let the people see your face … it shall be, I myself will know it. Go, Enkidu, to Uruk-the-Sheepfold, where the young men are girded with sashes,
where every day is made into a festival, where the drums resound, and the young women are comely of figure, full of allure and rich with delight; even the great ones are roused from their beds in the night. Enkidu, who does not know life, let me show you Gilgamesh, a man of joy. Look at him, gaze upon his face: he is beautiful in manhood, full of vigor, his whole body is charged with allure. He has strength greater than yours; he never rests by day or night. Enkidu, set aside your recklessness;
Gilgamesh — Shamash loves him, and Anu, Enlil, and Ea have made his understanding vast. Even before you came from the mountains, Gilgamesh saw you in dreams within Uruk. Gilgamesh rose and related the dream, saying to his mother: "My mother, in my dream that I saw this night, the stars of heaven appeared, and something like a meteor of Anu fell down upon me. I tried to lift it — it was too heavy for me; I tried to turn it over — I could not move it. The land of Uruk stood around it, the whole land gathered about it,
the people crowded around it, the young men clustered upon it, kissing its feet like a little child; I loved it as a wife, I embraced it. I lifted it up and laid it down before you, and you made it equal to me." The mother of Gilgamesh, wise, all-knowing, said to her son; Rimat-Ninsun, wise, all-knowing, said to Gilgamesh: "That which appeared to you like the stars of heaven, like a meteor of Anu that fell upon you — you tried to lift it, and it was too heavy for you; you tried to turn it over, and you could not move it;
you lifted it up and laid it down before me, and I made it equal to you; you loved it as a wife and embraced it — this means a strong companion will come to you, one who saves his friend, for he is mighty in strength throughout the land. His strength is as mighty as a meteor of Anu. That you loved him as a wife and embraced him means he, the mighty one, will deliver you." He dreamed a second dream; he rose and went in before the goddess, his mother, and Gilgamesh said to her, to his mother: "My mother, I saw yet another dream:
in the wide street of Uruk an axe lay, and they gathered around it; the land of Uruk stood around it, the whole land gathered about it, the people crowded around it, the young men clustered upon it. I loved it as a wife and embraced it, and you made it equal to me." The mother of Gilgamesh, wise, all-knowing, said to her son; Rimat-Ninsun, wise, all-knowing, said to Gilgamesh: "My son, the axe that you saw is a man —"
"You will love him as a wife, you will caress him, and I too will treat him as your equal. A mighty companion will come to you, one who saves his friend. In the land his strength is great; his strength is as mighty as a meteorite of Anu." Gilgamesh spoke to her, to his mother: "My mother, may it fall to me by the word of Enlil the great counselor — may I get a friend and counselor, may I get a friend and counselor!" He beheld his dreams. From Shamhat's words Gilgamesh recounted his dreams to Enkidu, and the two of them fell in love.

======== Tablet II ========

Enkidu was sitting before her, and they kissed. ... She said to him: why do you roam the wild with the wild creatures? He took counsel with himself, weighing it in his own understanding, for the one who understood in his heart sought out a friend. Shamhat gave him one of her own garments to wear, and clothed him in a second garment besides. She took hold of him and led him along like a god.
They came to the pen of the shepherd, to the place of the sheepfold, and the shepherds all gathered around him, murmuring among themselves at what they saw. The young man was like Gilgamesh in stature, tall and towering, magnificent — surely he had been born in the mountains, for his strength was as mighty as a lump of stone fallen from the sky. They set food before him, they set beer before him, but Enkidu did not eat the food; he only stared and gazed. He had never been taught how to eat bread, and Enkidu did not know how to drink beer.
[The harlot spoke to] Enkidu: … the peoples … the land … He understood it in his heart, and … he struck down the wolves and hunted down the lions, so that the great herdsmen could lie down to sleep; Enkidu had become their watchman, a vigilant man. One young man [went] to the house of his father-in-law…
Within Uruk-the-Sheepfold, to … the king [of Uruk-the-Sheepfold] … death … and … He stood in the street of Uruk-the-Sheepfold, and the people grew very bold, and he barred the way of Gilgamesh; the land of Uruk stood arrayed against him.
The whole land gathered around him, the assembly massed itself against him, the young men crowded around him, and like a helpless infant they kissed his feet. Then the young man … for Ishhara a bed is laid out … for Gilgamesh, like a god, a counterpart was set up for him. Enkidu blocked the doorway of the house of the in-laws with his feet and would not let Gilgamesh enter. They grappled with each other at the door of the house of the in-laws, they grew violent with each other in the street, in the public square of the land; the doorposts shook and the wall trembled.
[…in the land] mighty in strength, his might as mighty as a lump of stone fallen from the sky, tall in stature, magnificent. Gilgamesh's mother opened her mouth to speak, saying to her son; Rimat-Ninsun opened her mouth to speak, saying to Gilgamesh: my son … bitterly … you seized … at his gate …
…bitterly he wept(?). Enkidu had no kin, no family; his hair grew loose and unshorn; he was born in the wild, and no one had raised him. Enkidu stood and heard her words; he sat down and wept, his eyes filled with tears, his arms grew slack. The two of them embraced each other, and their hands clasped like … Gilgamesh spoke a word to Enkidu.
Why, my friend, are your eyes filled with tears, your arms grown slack? Enkidu answered him, saying to Gilgamesh: my friend, my heart is scorched with pain; it fills with lament, and fear has entered my heart. Gilgamesh opened his mouth to speak, saying to Enkidu.
…they kill… Now, my friend, … in the land … Humbaba … Let me cut … let them be shattered … the whirlwinds … Enkidu opened his mouth to speak, saying to Gilgamesh: how shall we go, my friend, to the Forest of Cedar? For the guarding of the cedar,
Enlil appointed him as a terror to mankind. That road is not one for traveling, and that man is not one to be looked upon. The guardian of the cedar forest is mighty, never yielding; Humbaba — his voice is the Flood, his mouth is fire, his breath is death. He can hear the rustling of his forest sixty leagues away — who is there who would go down into his forest? Adad is first in rank and he is second; who among the Igigi could challenge him? For the preservation of the cedar, Enlil appointed him as a terror to mankind.
"And whoever goes down into his forest, weakness seizes him." Gilgamesh spoke to him, to Enkidu: "Come, [...]. Why, my friend, do you speak so feebly? You let your voice go slack and grieve my heart. Mankind's days are numbered; whatever they do is but wind. [...] there is not [...]. You were born and grew up in the wild; lions attacked you — you know them all. And young men trembled before you. You know battle well — you have seen it.
"Come, my friend, let us go to the forge, [...] to the forge they went. [...] [...] [...] Sitting down, they kept deliberating with [...]. The axes we cast, [...]. Bring seven axes; bring their seven swords, [...]. Bring their one band; the band of [...]. [...] Hear me, young men of Uruk, of the sheepfold!
"Young men of Uruk who know [...]. I have set out; I will walk the distant road to where Humbaba is. I will face a battle I have not known; I will ride a road I have not known. Bless me, that I may go, and may I see your faces again in peace. May I enter the gate of Uruk with joy of heart. May I return and hold the New Year festival twice in the year; may I hold the festival twice in the year. Let the festival be established, let there be rejoicing; let the drums resound before Rimat-Ninsun." Enkidu gave counsel to the elders.
To the young men of Uruk who know [...]: tell him not to go to the Cedar Forest — that road is not to be traveled, that man is not to be faced. The guardian of the Cedar Forest is mighty, never sleeping. Humbaba — his voice is the flood, his mouth is fire, his breath is death. He hears the rustling of his forest sixty leagues away — who is there who would go down into his forest? Adad is one, and he is the second. Who among the Igigi could challenge him? It is for the safekeeping of the cedar
that Enlil ordained him for the terror of mankind, and whoever goes down into his forest, weakness seizes him. The great counselors rose up and gave their answer to Gilgamesh: "You are young, Gilgamesh, and your heart carries you away; you do not know what you are speaking of. Humbaba — his voice is the flood, his mouth is fire, his breath is death. He hears the rustling of his forest sixty leagues away; whoever goes down into his forest, weakness seizes him. Who is there who would go down into his forest? Who among the Igigi could challenge him?
Adad is one, and he is the second. It is for the safekeeping of the cedar that Enlil ordained him for the terror of mankind." Gilgamesh heard the word of the great counselors, and he looked at [...] Enkidu. [...] [...]

======== Tablet III ========

[…] to the quay of Uruk, draw near in peace. Do not trust, Gilgamesh, in your strength alone; let your eyes be sated with looking, and be sure of your blow. Let the one who goes before guard his companion, let the one who knows the road watch over his friend. Let Enkidu go before you; he knows the way to the Cedar Forest. He has seen battle and looked upon combat. Enkidu, guard the friend, keep the companion safe; bring his body back to his wives. In our assembly we entrust the king to you — bring him back and return the king to us.
Gilgamesh opened his mouth to speak, saying to Enkidu: Come, my friend, let us go to the Egalmah, before Ninsun the great queen. Ninsun is wise, she knows all things; she will set a course of counsel beneath our feet. They took each other by the hand; Gilgamesh and Enkidu went to the Egalmah, before Ninsun the great queen. Gilgamesh arose and entered before the goddess his mother. Gilgamesh spoke to her, saying to Ninsun: Ninsun, I have resolved — I will go.
On a distant road, to the place of Humbaba, I will face a combat I do not know, I will ride a road I do not know. Grant me your blessing until I go and return; let me see your face again in peace, let me enter the gate of Uruk in joy of heart. Let me establish anew the festival, celebrate the New Year's rite twice in the year. Let the New Year's rite be held twice in the year, let the festival be set, let there be rejoicing; let the drums resound before you. Rimat-Ninsun heard the words of Gilgamesh her son, and Enkidu, with grief, listened along.
She went into her bathing-house seven times; she purified her body with water of tamarisk and soapwort, and was made clean. […] fine linen, fitting for her body, […] a fitting ornament for her breast, […] she put on and was crowned with her tiara. […] she sprinkled the ground with pure water. She sprang up the stairway, went up onto the roof; she went up onto the roof and set incense before Shamash, offered the offering before Shamash and raised her hands. Why have you burdened my son Gilgamesh with a restless heart — for now you have touched him, and he goes, on a distant road, to the place of Humbaba,
to face a combat he does not know, to ride a road he does not know, for the days that he goes until he returns, until he reaches the Cedar Forest, until he slays fierce Humbaba, and destroys from the land every evil thing that you hate. On the day that you [cross the border, / stand watch], may she not fear for you — may the bride remember you. Entrust him to the watches of the night, […] in the twilight watch […]
[…] of the light. You opened, O Shamash, […] the going-forth of the wild beasts, to […] you went forth to the land, the mountains […] the sky, the beasts of the steppe […] your radiance, they wait for […] them; the roaming creatures […] you, […] I have lifted up, the dead […] life, to […] your head, to the rising of […] the peoples are gathered,
the Anunnaki watch for your light. May she not fear for him, may the bride remember him. Entrust him to the watches of the night. Set for him a road of well-being, that Enkidu may go before him to lead the way, for he knows the road to the Cedar Forest. May he turn the path toward himself, may he make the mountain yield to him; and may he carry in his hand your torch, the sign of the road. Until Gilgamesh reaches the Cedar Forest, whether the days be long or the nights be short, let his loins be girded, let his […] stride be set; at night let him make camp for the night's watch.
At the night's rest […] they shall lie down. May she not fear for him, may the great bride remember him. On the day that Gilgamesh, Enkidu, and Humbaba join together in combat, rouse against Humbaba, O Shamash, the great winds: the south wind, the north wind, the east wind, the west wind, the whirlwind, the hurricane-wind, the storm-wind, the evil wind, the demon-wind, the destructive wind, the frost-wind, the tempest, and the parching wind — let thirteen winds rise up against him, so that Humbaba's face grows dark, and so that Gilgamesh's weapon may reach him. Then, once your fury against him has calmed, on that day, O Shamash, set your face toward your mules; let your swift mules hasten you onward.
"May a peaceful dwelling be granted you, a bed for the night. Let there be a resting place [...]. May the gods your kinsmen give you offerings of ... . May the great bride wipe your face clean with the hem of her garment." Then Rimat-Ninsun turned and repeated the charge before Shamash: "Shamash, is not Gilgamesh a god ...? He does not stand with you in the heavens; he does not stand with Sin holding the scepter; he does not have the wisdom of Ea in the Apsu; he does not rule the black-headed people together with Irnina; he will not dwell with Ningishzida in the Netherworld." ... Let them make bricks for him, Shamash ...
"...may not... may not... the timber of the cedar [forest]... may not... may not attain... your [great] godhead... ... like ... ... like the people indeed ... like you have spoken ... into Humbaba you shall bring him." After Rimat-Ninsun had given her charge to Shamash, [Rimat-Ni]nsun, wi[se, knowing all things,] ... Gilgamesh ... She heaped up incense and ...
She summoned Enkidu and gave her instruction: "Enkidu, mighty one, you are not of my own body's issue — yet now I speak to you among the oblates, the votaries of Gilgamesh." ... The high priestesses, the consecrated women, and the temple votaries — she cast a token, she cast it upon the neck of Enkidu: "The high priestesses shall take him as their charge, and the daughters of the gods shall raise him as a foster child. I, Enkidu, whom I loved, have taken as a son." Let Enkidu, in [brotherhood] with Gilgamesh, be treated kindly by him. "Now ..." and "..."
"Until I go ... to the Cedar Forest, whether the days be long or the nights be short, [let your loins be girded, let your] feet [be shod]. [At night make your camp,] let ... keep watch. [...] ... [...] Gilgamesh to [...] ... to the gate of the cedar [forest ...]. Enkidu in the house of ... [...], and Gilgamesh in the house of ... [...].
[Juniper], burnt offering [...], the sons dwelling ... [...], the place where ... [...] — the rest of the lines are lost.
[The lines here are entirely lost, save for scattered fragments:] "... the road," "... Gilgamesh," "... Gilgamesh," and "[and may the] weapons [of Gilgamesh overtake] Humbaba."
[On that] day may Shamash [set his face toward the ambush]. By the word of Shamash you shall attain [your heart's desire]. At the gate of Marduk [...], toward the breast of the waters he [goes ...], the rear-guard of the people ... [...]. At the gate of the cedar forest [...] not [...]. Gilgamesh ... [...], and Enkidu [...]. "For a march of twenty double-hours we shall break bread, [until] the day [we go and] return, until we reach the Cedar Forest, until we slay the fierce Humbaba,
and every evil thing that Shamash hates we destroy from the land!" ... Do not gather the young men in the street ... . The case of the weak, the case of the ... . Until, like a small child, we attain our heart's desire, until at the gate of Humbaba we plant our [weapons] — the officials stood and blessed him, the assembled young men of Uruk kept running behind him, and his officials kissed his feet: "Approach the quay of Uruk safely. Do not put your trust, Gilgamesh, in your strength alone — let your eyes be watchful, make your blow sure.
'Let the one who goes in front save his companion' — one who knows the way shall guard his friend. Let Enkidu go before you; he knows the road to the Cedar Forest, he has seen battle and witnessed combat. At the mountain passes [...]. Let Enkidu, the friend, guard and keep safe the companion; may he bring his body back to the embrace of wives. In our assembly we [entrust to you the king]; when you return you shall [give the king back to us]." Enkidu opened [his mouth and spoke], saying [to Gilgamesh]:
[230] 'My friend, turn back—[...]' [231] The road, it is not [...] [232] […] [233] […] [244] […]

======== Tablet IV ========

At twenty leagues they broke off a piece of bread; at thirty leagues they set camp for the night; fifty leagues they walked in a single day, a distance of a month and a half in three days' time, until they drew near to the mountain of Lebanon. They dug a well facing Shamash, and […] water they set in […]. Gilgamesh climbed up onto the mountain, poured out his offering of flour to the mountain, saying, "Mountain, bring me a dream, let me see a favorable word from Shamash." Enkidu made for him — for Gilgamesh — the house of a dream-spirit; he fixed a door of storm-wind fast in its doorway, and he laid him down within a circle […] a design.
And Enkidu himself lay down like a net across the doorway. Gilgamesh rested his chin upon his knees, and sleep, which pours out over mankind, fell upon him. In the middle watch of the night his sleep came to an end; he rose up and spoke to his friend: "My friend, did you not call out to me? Why am I awake? Did you not touch me? Why am I startled? Did not some god pass by? Why is my flesh numb with dread? My friend, I saw a first dream, and the dream that I saw was entirely terrifying. On the flank of the mountain […] the mountain collapsed upon [us…]
"And we, like […] […] one who is born can give counsel out in the wild." Enkidu spoke to his friend, interpreting his — Gilgamesh's — dream for him: "My friend, your dream is favorable, the dream is precious […]. My friend, the mountain that you saw […]; we shall seize Humbaba, we shall kill him, and we shall cast his corpse out onto the open plain, and in the morning we shall see a favorable word from Shamash." At twenty leagues they broke off a piece of bread, at thirty leagues they set camp for the night, fifty leagues they walked in a single day.
A distance of a month and a half in three days' time, until they drew near to the mountain of Lebanon. They dug a well facing Shamash, and […] water they set in […]. Gilgamesh climbed up onto the mountain, poured out his offering of flour to the mountain, saying, "Mountain, bring me a dream, let me see a favorable word from Shamash." Enkidu made for him — for Gilgamesh — the house of a dream-spirit; he fixed a door of storm-wind fast in its doorway, and he laid him down within a circle […] a design. And Enkidu himself lay down like a net across the doorway. Gilgamesh rested his chin upon his knees, and sleep, which pours out over mankind, fell upon him.
In the middle watch of the night his sleep came to an end; he rose up and spoke to his friend: "My friend, did you not call out to me? Why am I awake? Did you not touch me? Why am I startled? Did not some god pass by? Why is my flesh numb with dread? My friend, I saw yet another dream, and the dream that I saw was entirely terrifying. […] […] Humbaba […] whose shortness is its length, […] wide is narrow […] Humbaba like a young […] sun/heat […]
[…] upon him […] and in the morning we shall see a favorable word from Shamash. At twenty leagues they broke off a piece of bread, at thirty leagues they set camp for the night, fifty leagues they walked in a single day, a distance of a month and a half in three days' time, until they drew near to the mountain of Lebanon. They dug a well facing Shamash, and water […] they set in […]. Gilgamesh climbed up onto the mountain, poured out his offering of flour to the mountain, saying, "Mountain, bring me a dream, let me see a favorable word from Shamash."
Enkidu made for him — for Gilgamesh — the house of a dream-spirit; he fixed a door of storm-wind fast in its doorway, and he laid him down within a circle […] a design. And Enkidu himself lay down like a net across the doorway. Gilgamesh rested his chin upon his knees, and sleep, which pours out over mankind, fell upon him. In the middle watch of the night his sleep came to an end; he rose up and spoke to his friend: "My friend, did you not call out to me? Why am I awake? Did you not touch me? Why am I startled? Did not some god pass by? Why is my flesh numb with dread? My friend, I saw a third dream.
"And the dream that I saw was entirely terrifying. The heavens cried out, the earth rumbled; daylight ceased, darkness came forth; lightning flashed, fire broke out; the flames flared up, death rained down; then the glow dimmed, the fire went out, and what had fallen turned to ash. Let us go back down into the plain, let us take counsel together." Enkidu heard the words of his friend; he interpreted the dream for him and spoke to Gilgamesh: "My friend, your dream is favorable, the dream is good […] […] […] […]"
[…] at twenty leagues [they broke bread]; at thirty leagues [they made camp for] the night; fifty leagues [they went in a single] day. […] where […] […] […] […] [at twenty] leagues [they broke] bread; [at thirty] leagues they made [camp for the night]; [fi]fty leagues they [went in a whole day]; [the journey] of a month and a half [on the third] day [they drew near] to the mountain of Leb[anon].
[Facing] the sun they dug [a well]. [… water?] they poured out i[n …]. [Gilgamesh climbed] up o[n the mountain] [and poured out his flour] as an offering to the h[ills, saying: 'Mountain, bring] a d[ream; let me see a favorable word from Shamash.'] [Then Enkidu made for him the house of a dream vision.] [He fastened the door against the wind, in its doorway.] [He laid him down in a circle, drawing a figure of …] [and he himself, like a … , lay stretched out in the doorway.] [Gilgamesh rested his chin upon his knees,] [and sleep, which spills over all mankind, fell upon him.] [In the middle of the night his sleep came to an end.]
[He arose and spoke to his friend:] ['My friend, did you not call me? Why have I awakened?] [Did you not touch me? Why am I startled?] [Did a god not pass by? Why is my flesh numb?] [My friend, I saw a fourth dream,] [and the dream that I saw was altogether frightening.] […] '[My friend, your] dream [is favorable, it is a good omen …] […] … this […] […] Humbaba like […] […] they will kindle […] against him […] […] we shall set bonds upon his arms […] […] […]
[…] let us stand together against [his] bod[y]. [And] in the morning we [shall see] a favorable word from Shamash. [At] twenty leagues they broke bread; [at] thirty leagues they made camp for the night; [fifty leagues] they went [the whole day]. [Facing the s]un they dug a w[ell]. [… water?] they poured out i[n …]. [Gilgamesh climbed] up on[to the mountain]. [He poured out his flour] as an offering to the [hills: 'Mountain, bring] a dream; let me [see a favorable word from Shamash.'] [Then Enkid]u made for [him the house of a dream vision.] [He fastened the door against the wind,] [in its doorway.]
[He laid him down] in a circle, [drawing a fig]ure of […]. [And he himself, like a …,] lay str[etched out in the doorway.] [Gilgamesh rested] his chin [upon his knees,] [and sleep, which spills over all peo]ple, [fell upon him.] [In the middle of the night his sleep came to an end.] [He arose and spoke to his friend:] ['My friend, did you not call me? Why have I awakened?] [Did you not touch me? Why am I startled?] [Did a god not pass by? Why is my flesh numb?] [My friend, I saw a fifth dream,] [and the dream that I saw was altogether frightening.] […] …[…]
Of his mouth […] the young man whom you saw […] on that very day […] he shall seize his h[ands …] they will kiss […] I […] [they were] born […] Gilgamesh op[ened his mouth and spoke, saying to Enkidu:] 'My friend, [is it not …] […] Were they not born as brothers, born [together …]?' Enkidu opened his mouth an[d spoke, saying to Gilgamesh:] 'My friend, as for the one against whom we go, [he is strange, nothing like us.]
As for Humbaba, against whom [we go, he is strange, nothing like us.] Gilgamesh op[ened his mouth and spoke, saying to Enkidu:] 'My friend, let us sl[ay him …] […] to […] […] […] […]

======== Tablet V ========

They stood and stared at the forest, gazing at the height of the cedars, gazing at the way into the woods, where Humbaba walked, a path was set. The roads ran straight and the going was good. They saw the Mountain of Cedar, dwelling of the gods, the throne-dais of Irnini. Facing the mountain the cedar bore up its abundance, its shade was good, full of delight, the branches were entwined and the thicket grown thick together. [...] the cedar and the ballukku-tree, and there was no way through. For a distance of one double-hour the cedar put forth its young shoots.
[...] the cypress for two-thirds of a double-hour. To a height of sixty cubits the cedar was encrusted with resin. Resin oozed out and the flow rained down like rain; it ran on and channels carried it away. Throughout the whole forest a bird chirped and cried; they answered one another, a hum of sound resounded. A cicada set off its shrill call and made the crowd of insects respond. [...] they sang, they made it resound, made it ring clear. The uršānu-bird moaned, the sukanninu-bird answered it. [...] the heron makes the forest glad; [...] the wild rooster makes the forest of abundance glad. The mother monkeys sing out, the young monkeys cry.
Like the din of drums and the tigi-instrument, day after day they kept up their clamor before Humbaba. The cedar cast its shade, and fear fell upon Gilgamesh; numbness seized his arms, and weakness fell upon his knees. Enkidu opened his mouth to speak, saying to Gilgamesh: "Let us go down into the forest together; open your hand, and let us raise the battle-cry." Gilgamesh opened his mouth to speak, saying to Enkidu: "Why, my friend, do we tremble like weaklings — [...] we have crossed all the mountains."
[...] before us. Before we go down [...]. My friend, one who knows battle, who has faced combat, does not fear death. You who are smeared with blood do not fear death either. Be angry, and like the apillu-priest change your mood; like the lilissu-drum let your voice be loud. Let the numbness leave your arms, let the weakness rise up out of your knees. Take hold, my friend, together [...]. Let your heart speak of battle; forget death and seek out life — the man who is watchful, whose comrade stands at his side,
the one who leads the way, who guards his own body — may he keep his comrade safe. For a far-off day the two of them made their name endure. [...] having come from far off, the two of them arrived together; they finished speaking their words, and they stood. They stood and stared at the forest. [...] From then on, swords [...] and from their sheaths [...]. Axes were laid hold of [...], axes and swords [...]. One [...] [...] they girded themselves [...].
Humbaba muttered to himself, spoke a word: "He did not come [...]. He did not come [...]. Why are they troubled [...]? Why is my own [...]? In weakness [...] to [...]. Why [...]? In my own bed [...]. Perhaps Enkidu [...]. In good fortune [...]. If the word to [...], may Enlil curse him [...]."
Enkidu opened his mouth to speak, saying to Gilgamesh: "My friend, Humbaba [...]. Friend, one is one, and two are two. Let one be weak, and let the two [...]. Let it be a twisted cord, and not [...] two [...]. Two strands tripled [...], a rope tripled and threefold. One strong dog — its two pups [...]. Your footing stands firm [...]. My friend, let the arrow go out [...]. You shall ride the road [...]. When we go down [...]."
[...] carries [...]. [...] two [...]. "My friend, above, the winds of Shamash [...]; behind him a storm, before him the wind." "Speak to Shamash, and let it be given to you [...]." Gilgamesh lifted up his head, [he wept before Shamash]; before the rays of Shamash [his tears flowed]. "You said of me that in the heart of Uruk — do not forget me. Now stand by me [...]. Over Gilgamesh, offspring of the heart of Uruk, set your protection." Shamash heard the words of his mouth, and from then on a cry [from heaven called out to him]:
"Do not fear him — stand against him, let him not enter his forest; let him not go down into the thicket, let him not raise up [...]. Let him not put on his seven cloaks of terrifying radiance. One he has put on, and six he has cast off." [...]. Like a raging wild bull they charged [...]. He gave a cry and was filled with terror; the guardian of the forest cries out [...]. Humbaba roars like Adad. Humbaba opened his mouth to speak, saying to Gilgamesh: "Let them take counsel — fool, Gilgamesh, brute of a man — why have you come before me?"
"Come, Enkidu, son of a fish, who never knew a father, hatchling of turtle and tortoise, who never sucked a mother's milk! When you were small I watched you, but I did not come near you [...] it filled my belly [...] evilly you have brought Gilgamesh here before me, and you stand there like a stranger, an enemy! Let me cut Gilgamesh's throat and neck, let me feed his flesh to the shrieking bird, the vulture, and the jackal!" Gilgamesh opened his mouth to speak, saying to Enkidu: "My friend, Humbaba's face keeps changing! Though we came up boldly to his place to cut him down, still my heart, grown afraid, has not yet grown calm."
Enkidu opened his mouth to speak, saying to Gilgamesh: "Why, my friend, do you speak so faintly? Your own words unman you and sicken my heart. Now, my friend, one thing more [...] [...] At the smith's channel copper is smelted; for one double-hour let the furnace be fed, for one double-hour let it be poured out — to loose the flood, to wield the lash. Do not draw back your foot, do not turn back! Now, like a lion, make your blow stronger! [...] [...] Let the south wind watch [...]
[...] Whatever dreams you have seen [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] let them be driven down to the abyss.
They raised them up to the distant sky. It struck the ground, and the stone-hail battered it against it. On the soles of their feet the earth split open. On their spinning they clove Sirara and Lebanon apart. The white cloud turned black; death rained down upon them like a mist. Shamash roused against Humbaba the great tempests: south wind, north wind, east wind, west wind, moaning wind, gale, blizzard, evil wind, wind of the demon Asakku, wind of the demon Simurru, wind of dissolution, whirlwind, wind of drought and heat — thirteen winds rose up against him, and Humbaba's face grew dark. He could not lunge forward, and he could not draw back.
And Gilgamesh's weapons overtook Humbaba. Humbaba, seeking his life, said to Gilgamesh: "You are young yet, Gilgamesh — your mother bore you, and you are the offspring of Rimat-Ninsun. By the command of Shamash you have flattened the mountains. O scion of the heart of Uruk, King Gilgamesh! ... Gilgamesh, never has a dead man [...] a lord. A living [servant] would return to his master." "Gilgamesh, spare my life! [...] Let me dwell for you in [...] As many trees as you command [...] I will guard for you, aromatic wood [...]
trees, the pride of your palace [...]" Enkidu opened his mouth to speak, saying to Gilgamesh: "My friend, do not listen to what Humbaba says! [...] his pleading [...] [...] should not be let go and [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [Humbaba lifted up his head and wept before Shamash,] [before the rays of Shamash his tears were flowing.] [...] You have seen the fate that I decreed for my forest, the fate I decreed [...]
and you know all that is said. I would have raised you, I would have hanged you at the entrance of my forest's approach; I would have fed your flesh to the shrieking bird, the vulture, and the jackal. Now, Enkidu, my release lies with you: speak to Gilgamesh, that he spare my life!" Enkidu opened his mouth to speak, saying to Gilgamesh: "My friend, Humbaba, guardian of the forest of cedar — finish him, kill him, destroy his authority! Humbaba, guardian of the forest — finish him, kill him, destroy his authority, before Enlil the foremost hears of it! The great gods will fill with fury against us: Enlil in Nippur, Shamash in [Larsa ...]
Establish forever [...] how Gilgamesh [slew] Humbaba [...] Humbaba heard [...] [Humbaba lifted up his head, weeping before Shamash,] [before the rays of Shamash his tears were flowing.] [...] [...] Enkidu opened his mouth to speak, saying to Gilgamesh: "My friend, catch a bird, and where [will its young go]? [...] Humbaba [...] Where do [its young] go [...]
Where do [its young] go [...] Humbaba heard [...] Humbaba lifted up his head, [weeping before Shamash,] before the rays of Shamash [his tears were flowing]: "May you enter, Enkidu, [...] in the fury of the weapon, the counselor [...] and as for the one who dwells in his house, the outcries [...] you sat before him like a shepherd, and like a hired man his mouth [...] Now, Enkidu, my release lies with you: speak to Gilgamesh, that he spare my life!" Enkidu opened his mouth to speak, saying [to Gilgamesh]:
"My friend, Humbaba, guardian of the forest — finish him, kill him, blot out his very memory! Humbaba, guardian of the forest — finish him, kill him, blot out his very memory, before Enlil the foremost hears of it!" — lest the great gods be filled with wrath against us: Enlil in Nippur, Shamash [stationed] in Larsa, forever […] how Gilgamesh and Humbaba […] kill. Humbaba heard […] … […] he lifted [his head], Humbaba [wept before Shamash], before the rays [of Shamash his tears ran down]. […] … […] […] … […]
"[…] … […] … […] Let it not […], let the two of them not grow old together, let Gilgamesh not find a grave for his friend Enkidu." Enkidu opened his mouth to speak, saying to Gilgamesh: "My friend, I tell you and you do not listen to me — […] until the curse […] […] to his mouth. [Gilgamesh heard] the wor[d] of his friend, he drew [the sword at] his side. Gilgamesh [struck him] on the n[ec]k, […] Enkidu [touched his heart], drove it in as far as the lungs.
[…] … it convulses. [Fro]m the head ( ) he tore out the teeth. […] abundance fell upon the mountain, […] abundance fell upon the mountain. […] … […] … […] … […] … […] … [G]ilgamesh flattened the forest. […] the fragrant cedarwood he carried [to …] … Enlil. [Enkidu] opened his mouth to speak, saying to Gilgamesh: "[My friend,] we have reduced the forest to a wasteland.
"[Wh]at shall we answer Enlil in Nippur? [With your st]rength you struck down the guardian. [W]hat was your fury, that you flattened the forest?" After they had slain the seven of them, his sons — zizanu, na'eru, simurru, shasu, emqu, […] ugallu — their axes weighed two talents, their hatchets […]; the sunginnu-weapon, […] … they had cut it apart; the load, fifteen fingers thick, of their throwing-weapon. Gilgamesh cuts down the trees, and Enkidu keeps searching through the stump-litter. Enkidu opened his mouth to speak, saying to Gilgamesh: "My friend, we have cut down the towering cedar,"
whose top scraped the sky. Make a door six rods high, two rods wide; let its thickness be one cubit; let its pivot and its frame and its threshold be of a single piece. [Let] the Euphrates carry it [to the temple] of E[llil in Nippu]ri; [let] the shrine [of Nippur] rejoice over it." […] … cypress, together with […] they bound it, a raft they set afloat […] […] … Enkid[u …] Enkidu rode […] and Gilgamesh rode upon the head of Humbaba […]

======== Tablet VI ========

He washed clean his hair, he polished his weapons; he shook loose the locks that hung down over his back; he threw off his soiled things and put on his clean ones; he wrapped himself in a cloak and tied on a sash. Gilgamesh put on his crown. Then the princess Ishtar lifted her eyes to the beauty of Gilgamesh: "Come, Gilgamesh, be my husband. Grant me your fruit as a gift. You shall be my husband, and I will be your wife. I will harness for you a chariot of lapis lazuli and gold, whose wheels are gold and whose horns are electrum, and you shall have great storm-mules to draw it."
"Enter our house in the fragrance of cedar. When you enter our house, let threshold and dais kiss your feet. Let kings and nobles and princes kneel before you. Let the yield of mountain and country be brought to you as tribute. Let your goats bear triplets, your ewes bear twins. May your foal, though under its load, overtake the mule. Let your horse at the chariot run in splendor. Let your ox under the yoke have no rival." Gilgamesh opened his mouth to speak, saying to the princess Ishtar: "And if I take you as wife, what then would I owe you?"
[...] ... my body and my garments; [...] bread and provisions for my hunger; [...] bread fit for godhead; [...] you would drink wine(?) fit for kingship; [...] I would devour; [...] I would pour out; [...] clothed in a mantle; [...] I would take you as wife: [a wife] who keeps off no frost, a door-leaf(?) that keeps out no wind or draft, a palace that crushes its own warriors, an elephant [...] that [devours(?)] its own covering.
A pitch that besmirches the hand of whoever carries it, a waterskin that soaks through on whoever carries it, a limestone block [...] a wall of stone, a battering-ram that breaches the wall of an enemy land, a sandal that bites the foot of its own wearer — which of your lovers lasted forever? Which of your allallu-birds rose up to heaven? Come, let me count out for you the tally of your lovers.
For Dumuzi, the lover of your youth, you decreed wailing, year after year without end. You loved the speckled allallu-bird, but you struck him and broke his wing, and now he stands in the woods crying, "My wing!" You loved the lion, perfect in strength, but you dug for him seven pits and seven more. You loved the stallion, magnificent in battle, but you decreed for him the whip and the spur and the lash, decreed that he run seven leagues, decreed for him muddied water to drink, and for his mother Silili you decreed unending wailing.
You loved the shepherd, the herdsman, the keeper of the flock, who continually heaped up ash-cakes for you and daily slaughtered kids for you; yet you struck him and turned him into a wolf, so that his own shepherd-boys now drive him off and his own dogs tear at his thighs. You loved Ishullanu, your father's gardener, who continually brought you baskets of dates and daily brightened your table; you lifted your eyes to him and went to him: "My Ishullanu, let us enjoy your strength — put out your hand and touch our vulva." But Ishullanu said to you: "Me — what is it you want from me? Has my mother not baked? Have I not eaten,
that I should now eat the bread of insult and curses, that reeds should be my covering against the cold?" You heard this said, and you struck him and turned him into a mole(?); you set him down in the midst of his own labors, where he can climb neither up nor down [...]. And as for me — you would love me, and then treat me just as you treated them.
Ishtar, on hearing this, [...] my insults and my curses. Ishtar, furious, went up into the heavens. Ishtar went and wept before Anu her father; before Antu her mother her tears flowed: "My father, Gilgamesh has heaped insults on me — Gilgamesh recounted my disgraceful deeds, my disgraceful deeds and my curses." Anu opened his mouth to speak, saying to the princess Ishtar: "Was it not you who provoked King Gilgamesh, so that Gilgamesh recounted your disgraceful deeds, your disgraceful deeds and your curses?"
"Ishtar opened her mouth to speak, saying to Anu her father: 'My father, give me the Bull of Heaven, that I may kill Gilgamesh in his dwelling! If you do not give me the Bull of Heaven, I will strike [the gate of] the Netherworld down to its foundation, I will set [...] below, I will raise up the dead to devour the living, and the dead shall outnumber the living.' Anu opened his mouth to speak, saying to the princess Ishtar: "If I give you the Bull of Heaven as you ask, then the widow of Uruk must gather seven years' worth of chaff, and let the farmer(?) of Uruk grow grass(?) for seven years." Ishtar opened her mouth to speak, saying to Anu her father: "[...] I have stored it up."
[...] ... it brought into being. For seven years the widows of Uruk had gathered husks. [...] the plowman [had grown tall on?] the barley meant for it. At the fury of the Bull [...] against him, Anu heard this word that Ishtar spoke, and put the halter of the Bull of Heaven into her hands. Ishtar led it down toward [the land of] Uruk. When it reached the land, it dried up the woodland and the marsh, and the reeds. It went down to the river, and the river dropped seven cubits. When it snorted, a pit opened up, and a hundred men of Uruk fell into it.
At its second snort a pit opened, and two hundred men of Uruk fell into it. At its third snort a pit opened, and Enkidu fell in up to his waist. Enkidu sprang out and seized the Bull of Heaven by its horns. The Bull of Heaven spat its slaver into his face, and with the thick tuft of its tail it flung its dung at him. Enkidu opened his mouth to speak, saying to Gilgamesh: "My friend, we boasted proudly among our city — how shall we answer the people now that they are cowed? My friend, I have seen the strength of the Bull of Heaven,
and I shall learn its full might, [its] ways [...]. Let me circle around, let me see the strength of the Bull. Toward the rear of the Bull [...] let me seize it, [and by the thick tuft of its tail] let me set my feet [behind its hindquarters]. In [...] and you, like a skilled [(...) valiant and] capable butcher, between the nape, the horns, and the killing-spot, plant your blade." Enkidu circled around behind the Bull of Heaven, seized it by the thick tuft of its tail, and set his feet behind its hindquarters.
And Gilgamesh, like a skilled [(...)] valiant and capable butcher, planted his blade between the nape, the horns, and the killing-spot. When they had slain the Bull of Heaven, they tore out its heart and set it before Shamash. They stepped back and bowed low before Shamash; then the two of them sat down together. Ishtar climbed up onto the wall of ramparted Uruk, sprang into a crouch, and uttered a curse: "Woe to Gilgamesh, who insulted me — he has slain the Bull of Heaven!" When Enkidu heard this word that Ishtar spoke, he tore out the Bull's right thigh and threw it in her face.
"If only I could catch you as well — I would do to you as I have done to it! I would drape its guts over your arms!" Ishtar gathered the cult-women, the consecrated women, and the harlots, and over the right thigh of the Bull of Heaven she raised a lament. But Gilgamesh summoned the craftsmen, all the artisans; the young men of the workshops marveled at the thickness of its horns. Thirty minas of lapis lazuli was their casing; two fingers thick was their coating. Six vats of oil, the capacity of both together, he gave as an anointing offering to his god Lugalbanda.
He brought them in and hung them up in the bedchamber of his lordship. They washed their hands in the Euphrates, then took each other's arms and set off, riding through the streets of Uruk. The people of Uruk gathered and gazed upon them. Gilgamesh said this word to the serving-women of his palace: "Who is the most splendid among young men? Who is the most glorious among males? Gilgamesh is the most splendid among young men! Gilgamesh is the most glorious among males! [...] we cast down in our fury! [...] in his street has no one to scorn him." [...] the path of [...] Gilgamesh held a celebration in his palace. Then the young men lay down, sleeping in the beds of the night;
and Enkidu, lying down, saw a dream. Enkidu rose and set about interpreting the dream, saying to his friend:

======== Tablet VII ========

"My friend, why did the great gods take counsel [...]?" [...] Enkidu opened his mouth to speak, saying to Gilgamesh: "Come, my friend, [...] in [...] the door [...] because [...] [...] [...] in [...] [...] [...]" Enkidu [...] lifted up his eyes.
With the door he spoke as if [...]. Door of the forest, in whom there is no [...], whose understanding is not [...]! For twenty leagues I chose your wood, until I saw the towering cedar [...]. Your wood has no equal [...]. Six rods is your height, two rods your breadth, one cubit your thickness; your \[door-jambs?\], your pivot, and your bolt-socket are all of one piece. I made you, I hoisted you up, in Nippur I raised you on high. Had I known, O door, that this was your reward, had I known, O door, that this was your favor, I would have raised an axe, I would have cut you down, [...].
[I would have had] a boat carry you to Ebabbar, I would have brought you to Ebabbar, the house of Shamash, I would have planted you as a cedar [in] Ebabbar, I would have set up an eagle at its gate. [...] your entrance [...], I would have [...] of the city [...] Shamash, and in Uruk [...] because Shamash heard my words. On the day [...] he gave the weapon. Now I am the one who made you a door, I am the one who [...] you; I am the one who [...], I am the one who tears you away. May a king who comes after me reject you!
May [...] fasten you [in place] anew, may my name be removed and his name be set there! He tore it away [...], he threw it down. He kept hearing his own words, and swiftly, quickly, his tears flowed. Gilgamesh kept hearing the words of Enkidu his friend, and swiftly, quickly his tears flowed. Gilgamesh opened his mouth to speak, saying to Enkidu: "My friend, [...] renowned, [one] endowed with understanding, sound of mind — [in one] year you have changed [...]. Why, my friend, does your heart speak such changed things [...]? The dream was precious, yet the terror was great; [your lips?] buzzed like flies.
"The fears are many, the dream is precious. For the living one, wailing is left behind; [for] the dead, wailing is left for the living to grieve. Let me pray, let me beseech the great gods, let me seek out your god, let me turn to him. Let me entreat Anu, father of the gods, in your presence; may Enlil, the great counselor, hear my prayer in your presence! I will make a statue of you, gold beyond measure I will make your image [...]. My friend, you shall not give silver, you shall not give gold [...]. What Enlil has decreed is not like what the gods [...].
What he has decreed does not turn back, does not unravel; what he has set as a bright thing does not turn back, does not unravel. My friend, fates are allotted [...]; people go about according to what is not their destiny. As soon as day dawned, at first light, Enkidu lifted his head and wailed before Shamash; before the rays of Shamash his tears flowed. "I appeal to you, Shamash, on behalf of my precious life, because of that hunter, that wrongdoing man, who did not let me gain as much as my friend gained. May the hunter not gain as much as his friend! Let his profit be destroyed, his strength diminished,
let his share before you be cut short! [...] wherever he enters, may he go out defeated! After he has cursed the hunter to his heart's content, his heart carried him to curse Shamhat the harlot as well: "Come, Shamhat, I will decree a fate for you, a fate that will never end, forever and ever! I will curse you with a mighty curse, may my curse strike you swiftly, at once! May you never build a house for your delight, may you not [...] the company you love, may you never sit enthroned among young women, may your fine garments be soaked in the dirt of the ground,
may the drunkard splatter your festival robe with filth, may you never acquire [a house of...] and fine things, [...] of the potter, may you desire nothing [...]; may the couch, the chair, and the well-spread table, the pride of the people, never be set in your house; may the [...] of your delight instead be the bench; may the crossroads of the highway be your dwelling; may the wasteland be your resting place, the shadow of the wall your station; may thistle and thorn strip your feet raw; may drunkard and thirsty man alike strike your cheek; [...] may she who is lady of judgment cry out against you; may the roof-beam of your house never be laid by a builder,
[...] may it lie down together [...]; [...] let no] funeral feast [be held ...]. [...] [...] [...] like [...] [...]. [...] a garment of dark blue [...]. [...] a lap [...]. Whose lap [...]. "Because of me, pure one, you were brought low, and because of me, pure one, you were brought low upon me, on the steppe." Shamash heard the utterance of his mouth, and from that moment on, suddenly, a voice called down to him from heaven.
"Why, Enkidu, do you curse the harlot Shamhat, who fed you bread fit for divinity and poured you fine beer fit for kingship, who clothed you in a great and goodly garment, and who gave you Gilgamesh, goodly companion, as your friend? And now Gilgamesh, your brother, your dear one, will lay you on a great bed — on a fine, honored bed he will lay you, he will seat you in the seat of ease, the seat at his left hand, so that the princes of the earth may kiss your feet. He will make the people of Uruk weep for you and grieve over you, and he will fill the joyous people with mourning for you."
"And he himself, after you, will let his body go unkempt, he will put on the skin of a lion and roam the wild steppe." When Enkidu heard the warrior Shamash's word, his raging heart grew still, his furious heart grew still, and he said: "Go, Shamhat, I will fix a fate for you: may the mouth that cursed you instead turn and bless you; may governors and nobles come to love you. Let the man at one league's distance slap his thigh for you, let the man at two leagues shake loose his hair for you. Let no soldier's belt withhold itself from you — let him loose it for you."
"Let them give you obsidian, lapis lazuli, and gold in exchange, earrings and a pendant be your gift. May Ishtar, mightiest of the gods, bring you in to a man whose storehouses are secured, whose granaries are full. For your sake may the wife, mother of seven, be forsaken, be abandoned." — For Enkidu's belly was sick; he lay alone through his allotted span. He spoke, telling everything on his heart to his friend: "Listen, my friend, to the dream I saw in the night. The heavens cried out, the earth answered; and I was standing between them. There was a man whose face was dark.
His face was like that of the Thunderbird. His hands were the paws of a lion, his claws were the talons of an eagle. He seized me by my hair, he overpowered me. I struck him, but he sprang back like a skipping-rope; he struck me and capsized me like a raft, he trod me down like a mighty wild bull. [...] venom [...] my body. 'Save me, my friend' [...] [...]. You feared him and [...] [...]. You [...] [...]. [...] [...]. [...] [...]. [...] [...].
He struck me and turned me into a dove; he bound my arms like a bird's. He seized me and led me down to the house of darkness, the seat of Irkalla — to the house whose entrants never leave, on the road whose journey has no return, to the house whose dwellers are deprived of light, where dust is their sustenance and clay their food. They are clad, like birds, in coats of feathers, and they see no light, dwelling in darkness. On the door and the bolt, dust lay strewn; over the house, silence was poured out. When I myself entered the house of dust,
I looked about and saw crowns heaped up. There sat the crowned kings, those who had ruled the land since days of old, now serving roasted meat before Anu and Enlil, setting out baked bread, pouring out cool water from the waterskins. In that house of dust that I entered there sat high priest and acolyte, there sat the purification priest and the lumahhu-priest, there sat the anointed priests of the great gods. There sat Etana, there sat Shakkan; there sat the queen of the underworld, Ereshkigal — before her Belet-seri, scribe of the netherworld, knelt, holding a tablet, reading aloud in her presence.
She lifted her head and saw me. 'Who has taken this man away?' 'Who [...] brought him here?' [...] made him weep [...] [...] the grave. [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] Ereshkigal [...] the flood [...] [...] [...] [...].
[...] [...] I looked upon his body. [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] all the sicknesses that I have gone through with you [...]. Remember me, my friend — everything I have gone through, do not forget. "My friend, I saw a dream that was not [...] [...]."
On the day he saw the dream his vigor drained away, and Enkidu lay down; one day he was sick, a second day […] Enkidu on his bed […]. A third day and a fourth day […] of Enkidu […]. A fifth, a sixth, and a seventh, an eighth, a ninth, and a tenth, of Enkidu's sickness […]. An eleventh and a twelfth day […]. Enkidu on his bed […]. He called out to Gilgamesh: "[…] it has turned against me, my friend, […] as when in the thick of ba[ttle he fell? …] I feared the battle, and […]."
"My friend, who in the ba[ttle fell …], I in the b[attle …] […]."

======== Tablet VIII ========

As soon as dawn's first light appeared, Gilgamesh wept for his friend: "Enkidu, whose mother was a gazelle and whose father a wild donkey bore you, whom the wild asses reared with their milk and the beasts of the steppe showed you all the pastures — may the roads to the cedar forest weep for you, Enkidu, and not fall silent, night or day. May the elders of broad-marketed Uruk weep for you. May the people who blessed us in our tracks weep for you. May the […] of the high mountains and hills weep for you. […] pure […]
May the meadows cry out like your mother. May the boxwood, cypress, and cedar weep for you, those among which we forced our way in our fury. May the bear, hyena, panther, tiger, stag, jackal, lion, wild bull, deer, ibex, all the beasts and creatures of the steppe weep for you. May the holy Ulay river weep for you, along whose banks we once proudly walked. May the pure Euphrates weep for you, whose water we poured out in libation from our waterskins. May the young men of broad-marketed Uruk weep for you, who watched us kill the Bull of Heaven in battle. May the farmer weep for you, over […], who exalted your name with the sweet alala-song.
May […] of the broad city, of Uruk, weep for you […] who first exalted your name. May the herdsman weep for you, [who churned the milk, beer,] and curds […] May the shepherd weep for you, who set out butter for your lips. May the […] weep for you, who set out fine beer for your mouth. May the harlot weep for you […] who anointed you with sweet oil. May […] weep for you [in the house of] the father-in-law, who […] a wife […]
[…] may […] weep for you. May they weep for you like your brothers; let their hair hang loose over them like your sisters'. [May they weep] for Enkidu, your mother and your father, […] From that day on, I myself will weep for you. Listen to me, young men, listen to me! Listen to me, elders of broad-marketed Uruk, listen to me! I weep for Enkidu, my friend; like a hired mourning-woman I wail bitterly. My axe at my side, my strength of arm, my sword at my belt, the shield before my face, ... my […]
my festival garment, the sash of my delight — an evil wind rose up and robbed me of them. My friend, swift mule, wild donkey of the mountain, panther of the steppe — Enkidu, my friend, swift mule, wild donkey of the mountain, panther of the steppe — we who joined together and climbed the mountain, seized the Bull of Heaven and killed it, and struck down Humbaba who dwelt in the cedar forest — now what is this sleep that has seized you? You have grown dark and cannot hear me." But he did not lift his head. He touched his heart, but it did not beat at all. He covered his friend's face like a bride's.
Like an eagle he circled around him; like a lioness deprived of her cubs he paced back and forth before him and behind him. He tore out and cast away the locks of his curled hair; he stripped off and threw down his fine ornaments as if unclean. As soon as dawn's first light appeared, Gilgamesh sent out a cry throughout the land. The smith, the lapidary, the coppersmith, the goldsmith, the engraver: "Make my friend […]" […] they fashioned a statue of his friend. Your limbs, my friend, [shall be] … your eyes of lapis lazuli, your breast of gold, your body […]
[…] a statue of his friend. […] his breast of lapis lazuli, his body of gold […] […] a statue of his friend […] […] his heart moved him […] He tore out and cast away his curled locks of hair; he stripped off and threw down his fine ornaments as if unclean. […] […] [He laid you out on a great couch;] on a fine couch he laid you out. He set you in a peaceful dwelling, the seat at the left, and the princes of the earth kissed your feet.
He made the people of Uruk mourn and lament for you; he filled joyful people with grief over you. And I, after you, will let my body go filthy — I will clothe myself in a lion skin and roam the open country. As soon as dawn's first light appeared, […] he loosened his ties and looked upon the ornament … obsidian, carnelian, […], alabaster, […] he had made […] he set out for his friend. […] he set out for his friend. […] minas of gold he set out for his friend.
[…] of gold he set for his friend. […] of gold he set for his friend. […] of gold he set for his friend. […] […] between them thirty minas of gold were mounted/fitted. […] he set for his friend. […] he set for his friend. […] their thickness. […] he set for his friend. […] the great one. […] he set for his friend. […] of his waist.
[…] he set for his friend. […] he set for his friend. […] he set for his friend. […] he set for his] friend. […] he set for his friend. […] of his feet he set for his friend. […] a talent of ivory […]. […] minas] of gold its mounting he set for his friend. […] mighty, of its sides he set for his friend. […] his quiver, one talent of gold its mounting he set for his friend. […] the hutpalû-ornament of its sides, of ivory. […] four minas of gold its mounting he set for his friend.
[…] a cut, its length. […] its thickness he set for his friend. […] a ring of gold. […] fitted with an iron staff. […] a grip/handle (in the form of) a wild bull. […] he withheld? for his friend. [Fattened ox]en and fat sheep he slaughtered, he poured out for his friend. […] the sun of my friend. […] to the princes of the earth all the flesh they brought. […] Ishtar the great queen. [The struck-do]wn kallirû-bird, of pure wood — to Ishtar the great queen, [Shamash] showed it.
May [Ishtar] the great [que]en accept it. Before my friend [may she rejoice and] may her arm go forth. […] a garment. To the lady of the god[s, the great] queen, [Shamash] showed it. May the lady of the gods, the great queen, accept it. Before my friend [may she rejoice and] may her arm go forth. A sabbatu-bead of lapis? […]. […]. To Ereshkigal, [queen of the earth, Shamash showed it]. May Ereshkigal, queen of the vast earth, accept it. Before my friend [may she rejoice and] may her arm go forth. A pipe fitted with […].
To Dumuzi the shepherd, the beloved of [Ishtar, Shamash showed it]. May Dumuzi the shepherd, beloved of [Ishtar], accept it. Before my friend may he rejoice and may [his] arm [go forth]. A throne of lapis lazuli […]. A staff of lapis lazuli […]. To [Namtar, vizier of the earth, Shamash showed it]. May [Namtar, vizier of the vast earth,] accept it. [Before my friend may he rejoice and may his arm go forth.] […]. […]. To [Hushbisha, housekeeper of the earth, Shamash showed it]. May [Hushbisha, housekeeper of the vast earth,] accept it.
[Before my friend may she rejoice and may her arm go forth.] He had made […] […]. A holder of silver, rings of copper […]. To Qassa-tabat, the doorkeeper of [Ereshkigal, Shamash showed it]. May [Qassa-tabat, doorkeeper of Ereshkigal,] accept it. Before my friend may he rejoice and may [his] arm [go forth]. My friend — may his heart not be sore. […] gray stone, of his heart, set with lapis lazuli, worked. […] of cedar wood. […] set with lapis lazuli, worked. To Ninshuluhhatumma, who sets the house in order, Shamash showed it. May Ninshuluhhatumma, who sets the house in order, accept it.
Before my friend may she rejoice and may her arm go forth. […] before my friend. To my friend […] he spoke, and may his heart not be sore. A dagger of katappû-wood, of lapis lazuli its hilt, a pure whetstone of Euphrates(-stone). To Bibbu, the slaughterer of the vast earth, Shamash showed it. [May Bibbu, the slaughter]er of the vast earth, [accept it]. [Before my friend may] he [rejoice] and may his arm go forth. […] a pin of gray stone. [To Dumuzi-abzu,] the shears of the earth, Shamash showed it. [May Dumuzi-a]bzu, the shears of the vast earth, [accept it]. [Before my] friend may he rejoice and may his arm go forth.
[…] of its top, lapis lazuli. […] set with lapis lazuli, worked. […] may his] arm go forth. […] of cedar. [To … the great, Shamash] showed it. […] the great. [Before my friend may he rejoice and may his arm] go forth. […]. […]. […] of cedar. […] […]. […] of the […].
[...] their [...] name [...] judge of the Anunnaki [...] Gilgamesh, when he heard this, fashioned a dam of the river [in his heart]. As soon as morning's light appeared, Gilgamesh opened his door. He brought out a great table of elammaku-wood; he filled a bowl of carnelian with honey, he filled a bowl of lapis lazuli with ghee. [...] he adorned it and displayed it to Shamash [...] displayed [...] a glow [...].
He [...] [...].

======== Tablet IX ========

Gilgamesh wept bitterly for Enkidu his friend and roamed the wild. "I too shall die — shall I not fare like Enkidu? Grief has entered my innermost being. I am afraid of death, and so I roam the wild. Toward Utnapishtim, son of Ubar-Tutu, I have set out on the road, and swiftly I go. I reached the mountain passes by night. I saw lions and I was afraid. I lifted my head and prayed to Sin. […] toward the light of the gods my prayers go out. Sin, and […], keep me safe."
Gilgamesh rose up — it had been a dream. […] before Sin he rejoiced in life. He lifted the axe to his side, he drew the sword from his belt; like an arrow he fell among them, he struck the lions, killed and scattered them. And […] […] he cast down […]. He marked out […]. The first […]. The second […]. He lifted his head and prayed to Sin.
To […] his prayers go, the light of the gods. Sin […]. May […]. When […]. Sin […]. The mountain — its name is Māšu. When he reached the mountain called Mashu, who each day guard the sun's rising, whose peaks reach the vault of heaven above and whose breast reaches the underworld below, scorpion-men guard its gate, whose dread terror is fearsome and whose glance is death.
Their fearsome radiance overwhelms the mountains; they guard the sun at its rising and its setting. When they saw him, terror and dread covered Gilgamesh's face; but he gathered his wits and drew near to them. The scorpion-man called to his wife: "He who comes to us — his body is the flesh of gods." The scorpion-man's wife answered him: "Two parts of him are god, and one part is human." The male scorpion-man cried out, and spoke a word to Gilgamesh the king, flesh of the gods: "How have you come so distant a road, […] drawing near before me?"
"How did you cross the rivers whose crossing is hard? […] let me learn. […] where your face is set, let me learn […]. […] the road to Utnapishtim my father, who took his stand in the assembly of the gods and found life; of death and life […]." The scorpion-man opened his mouth to speak, saying to Gilgamesh: "There has never been, Gilgamesh, one like you; of the mountain no one […]."
For twelve leagues its interior extends; the darkness is thick, and there is no light there. Toward the sun's rising […]. Toward the sun's setting […]. Toward the sun's setting […]. They lead […] out. […]. […]. How you […]. You shall enter […]. […]. […]. […].
In grief […]. In frost and heat my face is scorched. In weariness […]. Now […]. The scorpion-man opened his mouth to speak, saying to Gilgamesh the king, flesh of the gods: "Go, Gilgamesh, […]. The mountain, its interior […]. The mountains, the peaks […]. Safely […]. The gate of the mountain […]." Gilgamesh heard this.
At the word of the scorpion-man he took the road of Shamash. One league he went; thick was the darkness, and there was no light; it did not let him see what lay behind him. A second league he went; thick was the darkness, and there was no light; it did not let him see what lay behind him. A third league he went; thick was the darkness, and there was no light; it did not let him see what lay behind him. A fourth league […].
Thick was the darkness, and there was no light; it did not let him see what lay behind him. A fifth league […]; thick was the darkness, and there was no light; it did not let him see what lay behind him. A sixth league […]; thick was the darkness, and there was no light; it did not let him see what lay behind him. A seventh league, on reaching it, […]; thick was the darkness, and there was no light; it did not let him see what lay behind him. An eighth league, and like […] he cried out.
The darkness was dense and there was no light; it would not let him look behind him. For nine leagues […] the north wind […] before him. The darkness was dense and there was no light; it would not let him look behind him. Ten leagues […] when he reached it, […] drew near. Eleven leagues […] the road of a league. Twelve leagues Gilgamesh […] came forth before the sun. […] brightness was set in place. […] the trees of the gods — at the sight of them he was made glad.
Carnelian bore its fruit, hung with clusters, lovely to look upon. Lapis lazuli bore foliage, and it too bore fruit, delightful to see. […] cypress […] cedar […]. Its fronds were of pappardillu-stone […]. Coral of the sea […] sasu-stone. Like thornbush and bramble there grew anzagulmu. He touched the carob and the abashmu-stone; shubu-stone, shadanu-stone, […] like […] and […] the wilderness.
Like […] agate. Of […] the shells of the sea. It had […]. Gilgamesh […] walking through it. He lifted his head and gazed upon it.

======== Tablet X ========

Siduri the tavern-keeper, who dwells by the edge of the sea, dwells there […] […]. She has vats, she has […] […]; she is wrapped in a wrap and veiled in a […] veil. Gilgamesh drew near to her, […] […], clothed in a skin, filled with dread […]. He carried the flesh of the gods in his body, and grief was in his belly; his face was like that of one who has journeyed a long road. The tavern-keeper looked at him from afar, and she said in her heart, taking counsel with herself:
"Who knows—perhaps this is one who has slain the wild bulls? Where then is he heading straight for my door?" When she saw him, the tavern-keeper barred her door; she barred her door and went up onto the roof. But he took heed, Gilgamesh, toward […]; he lifted his chin and set his face toward her. Gilgamesh spoke to the tavern-keeper: "Tavern-keeper, what did you see that you barred your door? You barred your door and went up onto the roof. I will smash the door, I will break the bolt — […] […] […] in the open country."
The tavern-keeper spoke to Gilgamesh: "[…] […] I have barred my door, […] I have gone up onto the roof. […] let me learn your way." Gilgamesh spoke to her: "[Enkidu, my friend] […], who together with me climbed the mountains, seized the Bull of Heaven and slew it, brought Humbaba, who dwelt in the cedar forest, to ruin, and killed lions in the mountain passes." The tavern-keeper spoke to Gilgamesh: "If you and Enkidu are the ones who slew the guardian,
who brought Humbaba, who dwelt in the cedar forest, to ruin, who killed lions in the mountain passes, who seized the Bull of Heaven and slew it, the one who came down from heaven — why are your cheeks sunken, your face bowed low, your heart wretched, your features wasted, why is there grief in your belly, why does your face resemble that of one who has journeyed a long road, why are your features frost-bitten and sun-scorched, and why do you roam the wild wearing the look of a lion?" Gilgamesh spoke to her: "Tavern-keeper, why should my cheeks not be sunken, my face not bowed low,
[…] why should my heart not be wretched, my features not wasted, why should there not be grief in my belly, why should my face not resemble that of one who has journeyed a long road, why should my features not be frost-bitten and sun-scorched, and why should I not roam the wild wearing the look of a lion? […] My friend, the wild mule on the run, the donkey of the mountain, the panther of the open country — Enkidu, my friend, the wild mule on the run, the donkey of the mountain, the panther of the open country — my friend whom I loved so dearly, who went with me through every hardship, Enkidu, my friend whom I loved so dearly, who went with me through every hardship — […] the fate of mankind has overtaken him. […] For six days and seven nights I wept for him; I did not give him up for burial, until a maggot dropped from his nose.
I was afraid […] […]. I feared death, and so I roam the wild. My friend's words weigh heavy upon me; I roam the wild on the distant road. Enkidu my friend's words weigh heavy upon me; I roam the distant path in the wild. How can I stay silent, how can I be still? My friend whom I loved has turned to clay — Enkidu, my friend whom I loved, has turned to clay. Must not I too, like him, lie down and never rise again, forever and ever?" Gilgamesh spoke to the tavern-keeper:
"Now then, tavern-keeper, which is the way to Utnapishtim? What are its markers — give them to me! Give them to me, give me its markers! If it may be done, I will cross the sea; if it may not be done, I will roam the wild." The tavern-keeper spoke to Gilgamesh: "Never, Gilgamesh, has there been a crossing, and no one since days of old has crossed the sea. It is Shamash the hero who crosses the sea — other than Shamash, who can cross it? The crossing is hard, its path is very hard, and midway lie the waters of death that bar the way.
And even if, Gilgamesh, you should cross the sea, when you reach the waters of death, what then would you do? Gilgamesh, there is Urshanabi, the boatman of Utnapishtim, and with him are the Stone Ones, who gather urnu-plants in the forest. Go, then, and let him see your face. If it may be done, cross with him; if it may not be done, turn back." When Gilgamesh heard this, he took up the axe in his hand, he drew the sword from his belt, he crept forward and came down upon them, and like an arrow he fell in among them.
In the depths of the forest a sound cracked out. Urshanabi saw it and was wrapped in its terrible radiance. Gilgamesh raised the axe and it shuddered before him, and he struck […] its head, Gilgamesh. He seized its hands and […] its chest. And the stone-things had sealed the boat, those that never feared the waters of death, […] the wide sea. In the waters […] he held back. He smashed the stone-things and cast them into the river, […] the boat, and […] he sat down on the bank.
Gilgamesh said to him, to Urshanabi the boatman: "[…] you carry, you tremble […] […] you." Urshanabi said to him, to Gilgamesh: "Why are your cheeks sunken, your face downcast? Why is your heart wretched, your features wasted? Why is there grief in your belly? Why is your face like that of one who has walked a long, distant road? Why is your face weathered by frost and by heat, and why do you wear the face of a lion and roam the steppe?" Gilgamesh said to him, to Urshanabi the boatman: "Why should my cheeks not be sunken, my face not downcast?
Why should my heart not be wretched, my features not wasted? Why should there not be grief in my belly? Why should my face not be like that of one who has walked a long, distant road? Why should my face not be weathered by frost and by heat, and why should I not wear the face of a lion and roam the steppe? My friend, the fleet mule, the wild ass of the mountain, the panther of the steppe — Enkidu, my friend, the fleet mule, the wild ass of the mountain, the panther of the steppe — together we climbed the mountain, together we seized the Bull of Heaven and killed it, we destroyed Humbaba who dwelt in the cedar forest, in the passes of the mountain we slew lions — my friend, whom I loved so deeply, who went with me through every hardship,
Enkidu, my friend, whom I loved so deeply, who went with me through every hardship — the fate of mankind overtook him. For six days and seven nights I wept for him. I did not give him up for burial, until a maggot fell from his nose. I was afraid […]. I feared death, and now I roam the steppe. The word of my friend weighs upon me; I roam a distant road on the steppe. The word of Enkidu my friend weighs upon me; I roam a distant path on the steppe. How can I be silent, how can I be still?
My friend whom I loved has turned to clay. Enkidu, my friend whom I loved, has turned to clay. Shall I not be like him, and lie down too, never to rise again, forever and ever?" Gilgamesh said to him, to Urshanabi the boatman: "Now, Urshanabi, which is the road to Utnapishtim? What are its markers — give them to me! Give them to me, let me have its markers! If it can be done, I will cross the sea; if it cannot, I will roam the steppe." Urshanabi said to him, to Gilgamesh: "Your own hands, Gilgamesh, have kept you from the crossing —
you smashed the stone-things, you cast them into the river. The stone-things are smashed, and the … is not gathered. Lift up the axe in your hand, Gilgamesh; go down to the forest and cut punting-poles, each of five rods, three hundred of them; trim them, fit them with knobs, and bring them […]." When Gilgamesh heard this, he lifted the axe in his hand, drew the sword from his belt, went down to the forest and cut punting-poles, each of five rods, three hundred of them; he trimmed them, fitted them with knobs, and brought them, and […].
Gilgamesh and Urshanabi boarded the boat; they launched the magillu-boat and embarked upon it. In three days they traveled the distance of a month and a half, and Urshanabi arrived at the waters of death. Urshanabi said to him, to Gilgamesh: "Take up one punting-pole, Gilgamesh — let your hand not touch the waters of death […]. Take a second, a third, and a fourth punting-pole, Gilgamesh. Take a fifth, a sixth, and a seventh punting-pole, Gilgamesh. Take an eighth, a ninth, and a tenth punting-pole, Gilgamesh. Take an eleventh and a twelfth punting-pole, Gilgamesh." With twice sixty poles Gilgamesh had used them all up.
Then he, Urshanabi, loosened his garment. Gilgamesh tore off his clothing and with his arms raised it as a mast. Utnapishtim was gazing into the distance; he pondered, and spoke a word to himself, taking counsel with his own heart: "Why are the stone-things of the boat smashed, and one who is not its owner riding upon it? The one who comes is not a man of mine, and on the right […]. I look, and he is not a man of mine. I look, and he is not a man of mine."
I keep looking, and […] … […] … […] not mine […] they grew rank […] the boatman […] a man who looks, will not […] whoever looks will not … […] perhaps a snake … […] … […] cedar-resin? … […] Gilgamesh approached the quay […]
He brought it down, and it rose up again … […] Gilgamesh said to him, to Utnapishtim: "May you live long, Utnapishtim, son of Ubar-Tutu! […] … after the flood which … […] the flood, why … […] […] Utnapishtim said to him, to Gilgamesh: "Why are your cheeks sunken, your face cast down, your heart wretched, your features wasted, why is there grief in your belly, why does your face resemble one who has gone a long, distant road,
why is your face burned by frost and heat, and why do you roam the wild wearing the look of a lion?" Gilgamesh said to him, to Utnapishtim: "Why should my cheeks not be sunken, my face not cast down, why should my heart not be wretched, my features not wasted, why should there not be grief in my belly, why should my face not resemble one who has gone a long, distant road, why should my face not be burned by frost and heat, why should I not roam the wild wearing the look of a lion? My friend, the fleet mule, the wild ass of the mountain, the panther of the wild — Enkidu, my friend, the fleet mule, the wild ass of the mountain, the panther of the wild — who joined together with me, who climbed the mountains together,
who together seized and slew the Bull of Heaven, who destroyed Humbaba who dwelt in the Cedar Forest, who in the mountain passes killed lions — my friend, whom I loved so deeply, who went with me through every hardship, Enkidu, my friend, whom I loved so deeply, who went with me through every hardship — the fate of mankind overtook him. For six days and seven nights I wept for him; I did not give him up for burial, until a worm dropped from his nose. I was afraid. I have come to dread death, and so I roam the wild. The word of my friend weighs on me;
I roam the wild on a long road. The word of Enkidu my friend weighs upon me; I roam a distant path through the wild. How can I be silent, how can I be still? My friend whom I loved has turned to clay — Enkidu, my friend whom I loved, has turned to clay. And shall not I, too, lie down like him, and never rise again, forever and ever?" Gilgamesh said to him, to Utnapishtim: "I thought I would journey there, that I might see Utnapishtim, the Distant One, of whom men speak. I roamed and traversed all the lands; I crossed over difficult mountains;
I crossed over all the seas. Sweet sleep has not softened my face; through sleeplessness I have wearied myself. I have filled my sinews with grief. What have I gained by my toil? Before I could even reach the tavern-keeper's side, my clothing was consumed. I have killed bear, hyena, lion, panther, tiger, deer, ibex, the beasts and creatures of the wild; their flesh I ate, their skins I flayed. Let the door of sorrow be shut, sealed with pitch and bitumen against me, for as for me, no more joy … […]
as for me, no more gladness … […]" Utnapishtim said to him, to Gilgamesh: "Why, Gilgamesh, do you prolong grief? You who were made from the flesh of gods and of men, you for whom your father and your mother made […] Was a household ever built for a fool, O Gilgamesh? They set up a throne in the assembly and bid him sit, but a fool is given only dregs of beer instead of butter, coarse fat instead of fine oil, only bran and coarse meal like […], clothed in a rag like […] and a loincloth for a sash, for lack of one who advises him,
for lack of wise counsel … […] Gilgamesh has raised his own head […] their lord, as many as … […] […] … […] the moon and the gods of night? […] By night the moon goes forth […] the gods grew weary and troubled […] the awakened one is not driven back … […] since it was set … […] you, take thought, and … […] your companionship … […] if Gilgamesh, the house of the gods, its provider? […]
[…] the house of goddesses […] the two of them […] the gods […] to […] he made […] […] for a gift […] […] he will set down […] […] […] […] his innards […] […] one who adorns […] […] humanity […] they took for his fate […] you kept vigil — what did you gain by it?
From wakefulness you have worn yourself out; you have filled your sinews with grief; you bring your far-off days nearer. Mankind, whose name is snapped off like a reed in the canebrake — the handsome young man, the lovely young woman — death carries them off before their time. No one sees death, no one sees the face of death, no one hears the voice of death, yet savage death is the one who snaps mankind off. Do we build a nest forever? Do we ever build a home?
Do brothers forever divide an inheritance? Does hatred forever endure in the land? Does the river forever rise and carry the flood? The dragonfly drifts on the river, its face gazing upon the face of the sun — and then, all at once, there is nothing. The sleeper and the dead are just like one another; they do not draw the picture of death. The dead does not greet a man in the land. The Anunnaki, the great gods, gathered in assembly; Mammitum, who fashions destiny, decreed destinies together with them: they established death and they established life.
But the day of death they did not make known.

======== Tablet XI ========

Gilgamesh spoke to him, to Utnapishtim the distant: "I look at you, Utnapishtim, your form is no different — you are just like me. Nor are you different at all — you are just like me. My heart had resolved to fight with you, but now my arm lies useless over you. Tell me, how did you come to stand in the assembly of the gods and find life eternal?" Utnapishtim spoke to him, to Gilgamesh: "I will reveal to you, Gilgamesh, a hidden matter, and a secret of the gods I will tell you. Shuruppak — a city that you know, that on the bank of the Euphrates is set —
that city was old, and the gods within it, their hearts moved the great gods to make a flood. Their father Anu swore the oath, the warrior Enlil was their counselor, Ninurta their throne-bearer, Ennugi their canal-controller. Ea the clever one swore with them, but he repeated their word to a reed fence: 'Reed fence, reed fence! Wall, wall! Reed fence, listen, and wall, pay attention! Man of Shuruppak, son of Ubar-Tutu, tear down the house, build a boat!
Give up possessions, seek out life, spurn property and save life! Take up into the boat the seed of all living things. The boat that you shall build, let her measurements be measured out, let her width and her length be equal, roof her over like the Apsu.' I understood, and I said to Ea, my lord: 'I obey, my lord, what you have commanded thus, I will heed and I will do. But what shall I answer the city, the people, and the elders?' Ea opened his mouth to speak,
saying to me, his servant: 'You, you shall say to them thus: Surely Enlil hates me, so I can no longer live in your city, nor can I set my foot on Enlil's ground any longer. I will go down to the Apsu, to live with Ea my lord. But upon you he will shower down abundance — the choicest birds, the rarest fish — riches, a harvest. In the morning he will rain down cakes upon you, in the evening a downpour of wheat.'
At the first glow of dawn, the land gathered at the gate of Atra-hasis. The carpenter carried his axe, the reed-worker carried his stone, the shipwright carried his hatchet. The young men... the old men brought the rope. The rich man carried the pitch, the poor man brought what was needed. On the fifth day I laid out her hull; her floor plan was one acre, her sides were each ten times twelve cubits high, ten times twelve cubits each edge of her deck. I sketched out her shape and drew her design.
I gave her six decks, dividing her into seven parts. Her floor plan I divided into nine parts. I drove water-plugs into her middle. I saw to the punting-poles and laid in what was needed. Three shár of pitch I poured into the kiln. Three shár of bitumen I poured inside. Three shár of oil the men carrying baskets brought in, apart from one shár of oil that the offering consumed, and the two shár of oil that the boatman hid away. For the workmen I slaughtered bulls without number, and I killed sheep every day.
Beer, ale, oil, and wine I gave the workmen to drink, as though it were river water, so that they made a feast as if it were New Year's Day. ... I set my hand to the ointment when the sun rose. Before the sun set, the boat was finished. ... it was difficult, and we carried the launching-poles above and below ... until two-thirds of it had gone. Whatever I had, I loaded upon her: whatever I had of silver I loaded upon her, whatever I had of gold I loaded upon her,
whatever I had of the seed of all living things I loaded upon her. I put aboard the boat all my family and kin, the beasts of the field, the wild creatures of the field, and all the craftsmen I made go aboard. Shamash had set for me a fixed time: 'In the morning he will rain down cakes, in the evening a downpour of wheat — enter the boat, and seal your door!' That fixed time arrived: in the morning he rained down cakes, in the evening a downpour of wheat. I watched the appearance of the weather — the weather was frightful to behold. I went into the boat and sealed my door, entrusting the sealing of the boat to Puzur-Enlil the boatman.
The palace I gave, and all its goods. At the first glow of dawn, a black cloud rose up from the horizon of the sky. Adad thundered within it, while Shullat and Hanish went before, going as heralds over hill and land. Errakal tore out the mooring poles; Ninurta went on and made the dikes overflow. The Anunnaki lifted up their torches, setting the land ablaze with their brilliance. The stunned silence of Adad reached the heavens, and all that had been light turned into darkness.
It flattened the land like an ox, it smashed it […]. For one day the storm-wind blew, the flood-storm, blowing swiftly, going over the mountains, an onslaught upon the people like a battle surging over them. No brother could see his brother; no one could be recognized in the storm. The gods themselves grew afraid of the flood, and drew back, climbing up to the heaven of Anu. The gods cowered like dogs, crouched against the outer wall. Ishtar cried out like a woman in labor, the sweet-voiced Lady of the Gods wailed aloud: 'That former time has indeed turned into clay,'
'because I myself spoke evil in the assembly of the gods. How could I have spoken evil in the assembly of the gods, ordering battle for the destruction of my people, when it is I myself who gave birth to my people! Now like the spawn of fish they fill the sea!' The gods, the Anunnaki, wept with her; the gods sat bowed, weeping with her, their lips were parched, gripped with fever. Six days and seven nights the wind blew, the flood-storm flattened the land. When the seventh day arrived, the storm-wind [and flood] subsided,
and the sea grew calm, that had thrashed like a woman in labor. The storm grew still, the flood-storm ceased. I looked at the weather; stillness had set in, and all of humankind had turned to clay. The terrain was as flat as a rooftop. I opened a vent and light fell upon my face. I bent down and sat weeping, my tears flowing over my face, as I looked to the edges of the world, the limits of the sea. In fourteen places a landmass emerged. On Mount Nimush the boat came to rest. Mount Nimush held the boat fast and did not let it move.
One day, a second day, Mount Nimush held the boat fast and did not let it move. A third day, a fourth day, Mount Nimush held the boat fast and did not let it move. A fifth, a sixth day, Mount Nimush held the boat fast and did not let it move. When the seventh day arrived, I brought out a dove and set it free. The dove went off, but came back to me; no perch was available to it, so it turned back. I brought out a swallow and set it free. The swallow went off, but came back to me; no perch was available to it, so it turned back. I brought out a raven and set it free. The raven went off, and saw the waters receding.
It ate, it flew about, it cawed, and did not turn back. I brought out (an offering) and made a sacrifice to the four winds. I set out an incense (strewn) offering on the peak of the mountain. I set out seven and seven vessels, and into their bases I poured reeds, cedar, and myrtle. The gods smelled the fragrance, the gods smelled the sweet fragrance, and the gods gathered like flies over the one making the offering. As soon as the Lady of the Gods arrived, she lifted up the great flies that Anu had made for his enjoyment: 'Let these gods here be lapis lazuli around my neck, so that I may remember these days and never forget them.'
'Let the gods come to the offering, but let Enlil not come to the offering, since he did not deliberate before he brought on the flood, and consigned my people to destruction.' As soon as Enlil arrived, he saw the boat, and Enlil grew furious, filled with rage against the Igigi gods: 'Did any living soul escape? No man was to survive the destruction!' Ninurta opened his mouth to speak, saying to the warrior Enlil: 'Who but Ea could have devised this plan?
for Ea knows every craft.' Ea opened his mouth to speak, saying to the warrior Enlil: 'You, the wisest of the gods, the warrior — how could you, without reflection, have brought on the flood? Lay the sin on the sinner, lay the crime on the criminal, but be lenient, lest he be cut off; be forbearing, lest he be dislodged. Rather than your bringing on a flood, would that a lion had risen up to diminish the people! Rather than your bringing on a flood, would that a wolf had risen up to diminish the people!'
Instead of you imposing the flood, let a famine be set loose to smite the land! Instead of you imposing the flood, let Erra rise up and smite the land! I did not reveal the secret of the great gods. I made Atra-hasis see a dream, and so he heard the secret of the gods. Then his counsel was counsel indeed. Enlil went up into the boat and took my hand and lifted me up, he lifted me up and made me kneel down, my wife beside me, at my side; he touched our foreheads and stood between us to bless us. Before now Utnapishtim was a mortal man.
But now Utnapishtim and his wife shall become like the gods, like us; let Utnapishtim dwell far off, at the mouth of the rivers. So they took me and settled me far away, at the mouth of the rivers. Now then, for you, who will gather the gods together for you, so that you may find the life that you seek? Come now, do not sleep, for six days and seven nights. As he sat there upon his haunches, sleep breathed over him like a fog. Utnapishtim said to her, to his wife: Look at the young man who longed for life; sleep breathes over him like a fog. His wife said to him, to Utnapishtim the distant.
Touch him, that the man may wake; let him return safely by the road he came, let him go out by the gate and return to his land. Utnapishtim said to her, to his wife: Mankind is deceitful, and he will try to deceive you. Come, bake loaves of bread for him and set them at his head, and mark on the wall the days he has slept. She baked his loaves and set them at his head, and marked on the wall the days he had slept. The first loaf is dried hard, the second is leathery, the third is soggy, the crust of the fourth has turned white.
The fifth has grown moldy, the sixth is still fresh, and at the seventh, at that very moment he touched him and the man awoke. Gilgamesh said to him, to Utnapishtim the distant: The very moment sleep poured over me, you touched me swiftly and roused me. Utnapishtim said to him, to Gilgamesh: Go, Gilgamesh, count your loaves, that the days you slept may be known to you. The first loaf is dried hard, the second is leathery, the third is soggy, the crust of the fourth has turned white.
The fifth has grown moldy, the sixth is fresh, and at the seventh — at that very moment you woke. Gilgamesh said to him, to Utnapishtim the distant: What then shall I do, Utnapishtim, where shall I go, now that the Snatcher has seized my flesh? Death dwells in my bedchamber, and wherever I turn my face, there too is death. Utnapishtim said to him, to Urshanabi the boatman: Urshanabi, may the landing-place reject you, may the crossing spurn you; you who walk upon its shore, be barred from its shore. The man before whose face you have come.
His body is covered with matted hair, and skins have ruined the beauty of his flesh. Take him, Urshanabi, and bring him to the washing-place, and let him wash his matted hair clean in the water, white as snow. Let him cast off his skins, and let the sea carry them away, so that his body may show its beauty. Let the band on his head be renewed, let him be clothed in a garment worthy of him, until he reaches his city, until he completes his journey; let the garment show no wear, let it stay entirely new. Urshanabi took him and brought him to the washing-place, and he washed his matted hair clean in the water, white as snow.
He cast off his skins, and the sea carried them away, and his body showed its beauty once more. He renewed the band on his head, he put on a garment worthy of him, until he should reach his city, until he should complete his journey; the garment showed no wear, it stayed entirely new. Gilgamesh and Urshanabi boarded the boat, they cast off the magillu-boat and set out upon the water. His wife said to him, to Utnapishtim the distant: Gilgamesh came here worn out and exhausted; what will you give him, that he may return to his land?
And he, Gilgamesh, lifted the pole. The boat drew near to the shore. Utnapishtim said to him, to Gilgamesh: Gilgamesh, you came here worn out and exhausted; what shall I give you, that you may return to your land? Let me disclose to you, Gilgamesh, a hidden thing, and I will tell you a secret of the gods. There is a plant whose form is like a thornbush; its thorns, like a rose's, will prick your hands. If your hands can obtain this plant... When Gilgamesh heard this,
He opened the water-pipe, he bound heavy stones to his feet, they dragged him down toward the deep […]. He took the plant, it pricked his hand, he cut away the heavy stones from his feet, and the sea cast him back up onto its shore. Gilgamesh said to him, to Urshanabi the boatman: "Urshanabi, this plant is the plant of the heartbeat, by which a man may attain his life's breath. I will carry it to Uruk of the sheepfold, I will feed it to an old man and test the plant: if an old man grows young again,"
"then I myself will eat it and return to the state of my youth." At twenty leagues they broke bread, at thirty leagues they set up camp for the night. Gilgamesh saw a pool whose water was cool; he went down into it to bathe in the water. A serpent smelled the fragrance of the plant, it came up silently and carried the plant away, and as it turned back it shed its skin. Then Gilgamesh sat down and wept, his tears streaming down over the side of his nose. […] he said to Urshanabi the boatman: "For whom, Urshanabi, have my arms grown weary,"
"for whom has my heart's blood been spent? I have not secured any benefit for myself — I have secured the benefit for the 'lion of the ground'! Now, at twenty leagues' distance, the tide will already stir it far away. When I opened the water-pipe I let my tools fall in; I found a thing that was a sign set for me — would that I had turned back and left the boat on the shore!" At twenty leagues they broke bread, at thirty leagues they set up camp for the night, and they arrived at Uruk of the sheepfold. Gilgamesh said to him, to Urshanabi the boatman: "Go up, Urshanabi, walk on the wall of Uruk."
"Inspect the foundation terrace, examine the brickwork — is not its brickwork of fired brick, and did not the Seven Sages themselves lay its foundations? One square mile is city, one square mile is date-grove, one square mile is claypit, half a square mile is the temple of Ishtar: three and a half square miles is the measure of Uruk."

======== Tablet XII ========

That day, would that I had left the pukku in the carpenter's house; the carpenter's wife, like the mother who bore me, would that I had left her; the carpenter's daughter, like my little sister, would that I had left her. That day the pukku fell down into the netherworld, my mikku fell down into the netherworld. Enkidu answered Gilgamesh: “My lord, why do you weep? Why is your heart [sick]? Today I myself will bring your pukku up out of the netherworld, I myself will bring your mikku up out of the netherworld.” Gilgamesh answered Enkidu: “If you go down into the netherworld, let me give you counsel, [take my instruction to heart].”
“Do not put on clean clothing, or they will single you out like a stranger. Do not anoint yourself with the good oil from the jar, or at its scent they will gather around you. Do not throw a throwing-stick into the netherworld, or those struck down by the throwing-stick will surround you. Do not carry a staff in your hand, or the spirits will tremble around you. Do not put sandals on your feet, and do not make any noise in the netherworld. Do not kiss the wife you love, and do not strike the wife you hate. Do not kiss the son you love, and do not strike the son you hate—
or the lament of the netherworld will seize you—the lament for her who lies, for her who lies, the mother of Ninazu who lies, whose holy shoulders no garment covers, whose breast is not draped like a bowl.” Enkidu went down into the netherworld, but he did not heed the counsel of Gilgamesh. He put on clean clothing, and they singled him out like a stranger. He anointed himself with the good oil from the jar, and at its scent they gathered around him.
He threw a throwing-stick into the netherworld, and the ghosts thronged about him; those struck down by the throwing-stick surrounded him. He carried a staff in his hand, and the spirits trembled around him. He put sandals on his feet, he made noise in the netherworld. He kissed the wife he loved, he struck the wife he hated; he kissed the son he loved, he struck the son he hated, and the lament of the netherworld seized him—
the lament for her who lies, for her who lies, the mother of Ninazu who lies, whose holy shoulders no garment covers, whose breast is not draped like a jug of oil. Enkidu tried to come up from the netherworld to the world above—the netherworld seized him. Namtar did not seize him, the demon Asakku did not seize him—the netherworld seized him. The pitiless watchman of Nergal did not seize him—the netherworld seized him. He had not fallen in a place where men do battle—the netherworld seized him. Then the king, the son of Ninsun, wept for his servant Enkidu; he went alone to the Ekur, the house of Enlil: “Father Enlil, my pukku fell down into the netherworld, my mikku fell down into the netherworld, and Enkidu, who went down to bring them up—the netherworld has seized him.”
“Namtar did not seize him, Asakku did not seize him—the netherworld seized him. The pitiless watchman of Nergal did not seize him—the netherworld seized him. He had not fallen in a place where men do battle—the netherworld seized him.” Father Enlil gave him no answer. He went alone to Ur, the house of Sin: “Father Sin, my pukku fell down into the netherworld, my mikku fell down into the netherworld, and Enkidu, who went down to bring them up—the netherworld has seized him. Namtar did not seize him, Asakku did not seize him—the netherworld seized him. The pitiless watchman of Nergal did not seize him—the netherworld seized him. He had not fallen in a place where men do battle—the netherworld seized him.” [Father Sin gave him no answer.]
He went alone to Eridu, the house of Ea: “Father Ea, my pukku fell down into the netherworld, my mikku fell down into the netherworld, and Enkidu, who went down to bring them up—the netherworld has seized him. Namtar did not seize him, Asakku did not seize him—the netherworld seized him. The pitiless watchman of Nergal did not seize him—the netherworld seized him. He had not fallen in a place where men do battle—the netherworld seized him.” Father Ea [...]. He said to the warrior, the young man Shamash: “O warrior, young Shamash, son of Ningal, [...] surely you can open a crack in the earth now, and bring up the spirit of Enkidu from the netherworld like a phantom of the wind.”
At his word [...]. The warrior, young Shamash, son of Ningal, [...]. He opened a crack in the earth, and brought up the spirit of Enkidu from the netherworld like a phantom of the wind. They embraced and kissed one another; they took counsel together, questioning each other. “tell me, my friend — speak, my friend—tell me the law of the netherworld that you have seen.” “I will not tell you, my friend, I will not tell you. If I tell you the law of the netherworld that I have seen—you would sit down and weep.” “Then let me sit down and weep.”
"My friend, the peg that you touched, and your heart rejoiced over it — [...] like an old beam, a worm devours it. My friend, the roof that you touched, and your heart rejoiced over it — like a crack in the ground, it is filled with dust." He cried "Woe!" and [in the dust he] crouched low; Gilgamesh cried "Woe!" and in the dust he crouched low. "The man who has one son — I saw him, I saw. A peg is driven into his wall, and bitterly over it he weeps." "The man who has two sons — I saw him, I saw. He sits upon two bricks and eats bread." "The man who has three sons — I saw him, I saw. From a waterskin of the hills he drinks water."
"The man who has four sons — I saw him, I saw. Like the owner of a yoked ass, his heart rejoices. The man who has five sons — I saw him, I saw. Like a fine scribe, his arm is quick, and he enters the palace with a steady step. The man who has six sons — I saw him, I saw. Like a farmer, his heart rejoices. The man who has seven sons — I saw him, I saw: [...] like the confidants of the gods he sits upon a throne, [and he listens...] [...] I saw one, I saw: he holds the corner of a fine standard. Like [...] [...]"
[...] [...] [...] The one whose [...] — I saw him, I saw. To[ward...] The one whose [...] — I saw him, I saw. To[ward...] [...] [...] "The one who was struck by a mooring pole — I saw him, I saw. Would that to his mother and his father, as the peg is torn out, he could still go about! The one who died the death that is his god's own — I saw him, I saw."
"He lies on the bed of the gods and drinks pure water. The one who was killed in battle — I saw him, I saw. His father and mother lift up his head, and his wife weeps over him. The one whose corpse is thrown out upon the steppe — I saw him, I saw: his spirit does not lie at rest in the earth. The one whose spirit has no one to care for it — I saw him, I saw: the scrapings of the pot, the crusts of bread thrown into the street — these he eats."