Gilgamesh : A New Rendering in English Verse

by Ferry, David

and entered the island forest. He got to the place

  where the Stone Things were, and fell upon them and broke them.

  The boatman in the forest heard the noises

  of dagger and ax; there was confusion of battle.

  Gilgamesh fought a wingèd adversary

  that gloried over him in the confusion.

  Then Gilgamesh pinioned the wings of the adversary.

  He took the broken Stone Things and stowed them away,

  together in the boat with the Urnu-Snakes.

  iii

  Urshànabi the boatman said to him:

  “Your face is bitten by hunger or by sorrow.

  Why do you look like one who has undergone

  a terrible journey? Why do you look like one

  who grieves? Why do you wear the skin of a beast?

  Why is it that you roam the wilderness?”

  And Gilgamesh replied then to the boatman:

  “I look like one who has undergone a journey,

  like one whose grief lives in his heart, and I wander

  the wilderness wearing the skin of a beast because

  I grieve for the death of Enkidu the companion,

  he who has fought with lions and with wolves.

  Together we made the journey across the mountains

  through the dangerous passes to the Cedar Forest;

  born in the wilderness, Enkidu made a shelter

  against the winds that blew across the mountains;

  together we slew Huwawa the guardian demon;

  we fought the Bull of Heaven together and killed him.

  Enkidu, the companion, whom I loved,

  who went together with me on the journey

  no one has ever undergone before,

  now Enkidu has undergone the fate

  the high gods have established for mankind.

  Seven days and nights I sat beside the body,

  weeping for Enkidu beside the body,

  and then I saw a worm fall out of his nose.

  I roam the wilderness because of the fear.

  Enkidu, the companion, whom I loved,

  is dirt, the companion Enkidu is clay.

  Must I die too? Must Gilgamesh be like that?”

  Gilgamesh spoke and said then to the boatman:

  “Tell me the way to find the only one

  of men by means of whom I might find out

  how death can be avoided. Tell me the way.

  What are the signs of the way to Utnapishtim?

  If I must cross the waters of death, I will.

  If not, I will wander in unknown places, seeking.”

  Urshànabi replied to Gilgamesh:

  “With your own hands you have made the crossing harder.

  You broke the talismans, you broke the Stone Things;

  you took the Urnu-Snakes, which is forbidden.

  Take up your ax, go back into the forest.

  Cut sixty poles and then cut sixty more,

  each pole of sixty cubits; fit them with rings

  to strengthen them for poling; find pitch

  to seal the wood against the waters of death.

  When you have finished, bring me back the poles.”

  So Gilgamesh went back into the forest,

  cut sixty poles and then cut sixty more,

  banded the poles, and sealed them against the waters,

  and then brought back to the boatman what he had made.

  Then Gilgamesh and Urshànabi embarked

  on the little boat and made the perilous journey,

  by the third day sailing as far as would have been

  a two months’ sail for an ordinary boat.

  And they arrived at the place of the waters of death.

  Urshànabi then said to Gilgamesh:

  “Let us make our way using the punting poles.

  Be sure your hands touch nothing of the water.”

  So Gilgamesh took up a punting pole

  to pole the little boat through the waters of death,

  and after a time the wooden pole was broken

  because of the might of Gilgamesh the king

  poling the little boat through the deadly waters.

  And so it was with a second pole, and a third,

  a fourth pole, a fifth, and a sixth, and a seventh also;

  and so it was with sixty poles, and then

  with a sixty-first, and sixty-second, and -third,

  and a sixty-fourth, and -fifth, through the death waters,

  till all the poles were broken because of his might.

  Then Gilgamesh stripped himself and as a sail

  held up the animal skin he had been wearing,

  and so the little boat sailed on the waters.

  iv

  The old man standing on the faraway shore

  gazed at a little boat approaching. He gazed

  at a boat approaching across the waters of death,

  and wondering said to himself, consulting his heart:

  “The Stone Things have been broken, and there is one

  other than Urshànabi in the boat.

  I gaze and gaze across the waters of death

  but I cannot tell who sails in the boat approaching.”

  v

  The old man spoke and said to Gilgamesh:

  “Your face is bitten by hunger or by sorrow.

  Why do you look like one who has undergone

  a terrible journey? Why do you look like one

  who grieves? Why do you wear the skin of a beast?

  Why is it that you roam the wilderness?”

  And Gilgamesh spoke to the old man and said:

  “I look like one whose grief lives in his heart,

  because of the death of Enkidu the companion.

  Together we made the journey across the mountains

  through the dangerous passes to the Cedar Forest;

  he told me how the dreams were fortunate;

  together we made the festal gate of cedar.

  We fought the Bull of Heaven together and killed him,

  and after we killed the Bull sat down and rested.

  Two brothers, we washed our hands in the calm waters.

  Enkidu, the companion, whom I loved,

  who went together with me on the journey

  no one has ever undergone before,

  now Enkidu has undergone the fate

  the high gods have established for mankind.

  I saw the worm drop out of Enkidu’s nose.

  Must I die too? Must I too be like that?

  I wandered the desert seeking Utnapishtim,

  he who is called by men the Faraway;

  I lived on the flesh of beasts I hunted down,

  lions, and tigers, the bear, the hyena, the panther;

  I wore the skins of beasts I had hunted down.

  There was no sleep for me in the deserts or mountains.

  The tavern keeper shut her door against me.

  I lay in the dirt as if I were a beast.”

  The old man spoke and said to Gilgamesh:

  “You who were born the son of a goddess mother,

  why do you grieve because of a mortal father?

  How long does a building stand before it falls?

  How long does a contract last? How long will brothers

  share the inheritance before they quarrel?

  How long does hatred, for that matter, last?

  Time after time the river has risen and flooded.

  The insect leaves the cocoon to live but a minute.

  How long is the eye able to look at the sun?

  From the very beginning nothing at all has lasted.

  See how the dead and the sleeping resemble each other.

  Seen together, they are the image of death.

  The simple man and the ruler resemble each other.

  The face of the one will darken like that of the other.

  The Annunaki gathered in assembly;

  Mammetum, Mother Goddess, sh
e was with them.

  There they established that there is life and death.

  The day of death is set, though not made known.”

  TABLET XI

  i

  Gilgamesh spoke and said to the old man then:

  “When I looked at you I thought that you were not

  a man, one made like me; I had resolved

  to challenge you as one might challenge a demon,

  a stranger-adversary. But now I see

  that you are Utnapishtim, made like me,

  a man, the one I sought, the one from whom

  I might find out how death can be avoided.

  Tell me then, father, how it came about

  that you were admitted to the company

  of gods, who granted you eternal life.”

  The father Utnapishtim spoke and said:

  “I will tell Gilgamesh the king the story;

  a secret of the gods I will disclose.

  There was an ancient city, Shuruppak—

  you know of it—most fortunate of cities,

  god-favored, on the banks of the Euphrates.

  The gods in heaven decided in their council

  to bring the flood down on the fortunate city.

  They sat in secret council together, deciding.

  Anu was there, the councilor Enlil,

  Ninurta of the Silence, and there also

  was the god Ennugi, monitor of canals.

  And there was Ea, cleverest of the gods.

  The voice of Ea telling me the secret

  came whispering through the reed walls of my house:

  ‘You reed house walls, listen and hear me whisper;

  listen and be attentive to what I tell you.

  Utnapishtim, son of Ubartutu,

  abandon your house, abandon what you possess,

  abandon your house and build a boat instead.

  Seek life instead of riches, save yourself.

  Take with you, on the boat you build, an instance

  of each thing living so that they may be

  safe from obliteration in the flood.

  Perform the construction of the boat with care.

  Let the length of the boat and the width of the boat be equal.

  Roof over the boat as the abyss is roofed.’

  The whispering voice spoke through the rustling walls:

  ‘You reed house walls, listen and hear what I say.’

  I listened and heard and spoke to the whispering voice:

  ‘I hear what you say. What will I tell the others?

  What will I tell the old men and the people?’

  Ea the god whispered to me, his servant:

  ‘Tell them you can no longer live in the city,

  because you are out of favor with Enlil.

  The city is the city of Enlil,

  and therefore Utnapishtim, whom he hates,

  must find another domicile and another

  god who will be his patron and protector,

  and you have therefore decided to depart

  from Shuruppak and seek another home.

  Tell them Ea the god will be your patron,

  whose domicile is Apsu the abyss.

  Under the roof of Apsu is where you go.

  As for the city, fortunate Shuruppak,

  in the morning dawning, abundance will then rain down:

  there will be plenty, a flood of bounty, the city

  teeming with heaven’s profusion, game birds falling,

  fishes unheard-of before in song or story,

  tumbling loaves of fresh-baked morning bread;

  grain will come showering in from all the grain fields;

  a harvest of everything, yes, more than enough.

  These are the things to tell the elders and people.’

  ii

  “In the first hours of the early morning dawning,

  all the people came out for the boat-building,

  the little children, the weak as well as the strong,

  everyone carrying something: asphalt, and oil,

  and pitch, the best of timber with which to build.

  Day after day I labored building the boat.

  Ten times a dozen cubits were the walls;

  ten times a dozen cubits was each deck.

  There were six decks; the cabin was divided

  into nine compartments. I made up the plans;

  I drew a picture of them for our guidance.

  I hammered the boat together, and plugged the holes

  with water plugs to keep the water out.

  I made the bitumen pitch in the pitch kiln,

  three sar of bitumen pitch to caulk the hull

  and, to be certain, three sar to caulk the inside.

  I counted punting poles and put them aboard;

  I had the basket bearers stow the supplies

  of oil and foodstuffs, everything I needed.

  As for the people who came to help in the work

  each day was like a New Year’s holiday:

  I slaughtered sheep and bullocks for their feasting;

  for drinking there was wine and beer, plenty,

  as if there was a river overflowing.

  On the seventh day I finished building the boat.

  I opened a bowl of ointment for my hands.

  I commanded the loading of everything I owned

  that could be carried, silver, and gold, and all

  the instances of living things to be

  saved from obliteration in the flood;

  and all my household people I took with me.

  At sunset on that day I launched the boat.

  The launching was very hard to manage. It took

  much shifting and much maneuvering on the ways

  to get the unwieldy boat down into the river,

  and two-thirds of its weight under the water

  in order to prevent it from capsizing.

  As darkness was coming on I heard the god:

  ‘Abundance will rain down, more than enough!

  Get yourself inside, and close the hatch!’

  I saw the signs of morning in the sky.

  ‘Abundance will rain down, more than enough!’

  I got myself inside, and closed the hatch.

  To Puzuramurri the caulker, who, outside,

  caulked up the hatch with pitch, I gave my house.

  iii

  “In the early hours of the next morning dawning

  there was the noise of Adad in the clouds

  that rose and filled the morning sky with blackness.

  Shullat the herald of the dread Adad

  moved out over the mountains and over the valleys,

  bellowing; Hanish the herald of the dread

  Adad moved over the plains and over the cities;

  everything turned to darkness as to night.

  From time to time the Annunaki blazed

  terrible light. Then rain came down in floods.

  Beneath, the god of the Underworld, Nergal,

  broke down his own doorposts and opened the earth.

  Ninurta god of chaos and of war

  opened the dikes, and other floods burst forth.

  The South Wind rushed in flooding over the mountains.

  Brother could not see brother in the welter;

  none of the gods in heaven could see the earth;

  the land was shattered like a shattered pot;

  confusions of dread Adad were everywhere.

  Terrified gods got themselves up as high

  as they could go, nearest the highest heaven,

  cringing against the wall like beaten dogs.

  Ishtar cried out like a woman in her birth pangs,

  the sweet-voiced lady cried: ‘The days that were

  have now become as featureless as clay

  because of what I said when I went to the gods

  in heaven, bringing calamity down on those

  whom now the sea engulfs and overwhelms,

&
nbsp; my children who are now the children of fish.’

  The Annunaki sat and wept with her,

  the cowering gods wept, covering their mouths.

  Six days and nights the storm went on this way,

  the South Wind flooding over the mountains and valleys

  until the seventh day when the storm birth labor

  subsided at last, the flood subsided at last.

  I opened the hatch. The daylight touched my face.

  I looked outside. Nothing was moving at all.

  It looked as flat as a flat clay roof looks flat;

  and all the human beings had turned to clay.

  I fell to my knees and wept. The tears ran down

  the sides of my nose. I wept in the total silence.

  I looked outside and looked as far as I could,

  trying to find, looking across the world,

  something. And then, far off, something was there.

  What looked like signs of an island could faintly be seen;

  and then the boat was caught and held from under

  by the peak rock of a mountain under the water.

  It was Mount Nisir the boat was grounded on.

  A first day it was held, and a second day;

  a third day the boat was held from under,

  and a fourth day, and a fifth; a sixth day,

  and then on the seventh day I freed a dove.

  The dove flew free and flew away from the boat,

  seeking a place for its little feet to alight,

  and finding none, flew back to the boat to perch.

  I freed a swallow then and it flew free

  and flew away from the boat, seeking a place

  for its little feet to alight, and finding none,

  flew back to the boat to find a place to alight.

  I freed a raven then and it flew free

  and flew away from the boat, and never returned.

  It had found a place to alight, and circled about

  the place, and alighted, and settled itself, and ate,

  and never after that returned to the boat.

  Then I set free all the other birds in the boat

  and they flew free, scattering to the winds.

  iv

  “I went ashore and offered a sacrifice.

  I poured out a libation; I set out seven

  vessels of offerings on a stand, and then

  set seven more; I made a fire of wood

  of myrtle, wood of cane, and wood of cedar.

  I lit the fire. The odor touched the nostrils

  of the Igigi gods and gave them pleasure.

  I slaughtered a sheep to make a sacrifice;

  the gods collected like flies about the altar.

  The great goddess progenitrix Ishtar

  came down from heaven wearing about her neck

  the pendant Anu gave her for her adornment,