ƓιƖgαмєѕн | Ƙιηg σf Hєяσєѕ (
kingofallkings) wrote2015-07-04 02:47 pm
Epic IX: The Wandering of Gilgamesh❋
The Wandering of Gilgamesh
For his friend Enkidu Gilgamesh
Did bitterly weep as he wandered the wild:
'Shall I die too? Am I not like Enkidu?
Sorrow has entered my heart!
'I am afraid of death, so I wander the wild,
To find Uta-napishti, son of Ubar-Tutu.
On the road, travelling swiftly,
I came one night to a mountain pass.
'I saw some lions and grew afraid,
I lifted my head to the moon in prayer,
To Sin, the lamp of the gods, went my supplications:
"O Sin and keep me safe!'"
That night he lay down, then woke from a dream:
In the presence of the moon he grew glad of life,
He took up his axe in his hand,
He drew forth the dirk from his belt.
Like an arrow among them he fell,
He smote the lions, he killed them and scattered them.
He clad himself in their skins, he ate their flesh.
Gilgamesh dug wells that never existed before,
He drank the water, as he chased the winds.
Shamash grew worried, and bending down,
He spoke to Gilgamesh:
'O Gilgamesh, where are you wandering?
The life that you seek you never will find.'
Said Gilgamesh to him, to the hero Shamash:
'After roaming, wandering all through the wild,
When I enter the Netherworld will rest be scarce?
I shall lie there sleeping all down the years!
'Let my eyes see the sun and be sated with light!
The darkness is hidden, how much light is there left?
When may the dead see the rays of the sun?'
To Mashu's twin mountains he came,
Which daily guard the rising sun,
Whose tops support the fabric of heaven,
Whose base reaches down to the Netherworld.
There were scorpion-men guarding its gate,
Whose terror was dread, whose glance was death,
Whose radiance was fearful, overwhelming the mountains at
Sunrise and sunset they guarded the sun.
Gilgamesh saw them, in fear and dread he covered his face,
Then he collected his wits, and drew nearer their presence.
The scorpion-man called to his mate:
'He who has come to us, flesh of the gods is his body.'
The scorpion-man's mate answered him:
'Two-thirds of him is god, and one third human.'
The scorpion-man called out,
Saying a word to King Gilgamesh, flesh of the gods:
'How did you come here, such a far road?
How did you get here, to be in my presence?
How did you cross the seas, whose passage is perilous?
How did you arrive? Let me learn of your journey!'
'I am seeking the road of my forefather, Uta-napishti,
Who attended the gods' assembly, and found life eternal:
Of death and life he shall tell me the secret.'
The scorpion-man opened his mouth to speak, saying to Gilgamesh:
'Never before, O Gilgamesh, was there one like you,
Never did anyone travel the path of the mountain.
'For twelve double-hours its interior extends,
The darkness is dense, and light is there none.
And you, how will you go forward?'
'Through sorrow [and grief, my heart is weathered.]
By frost and by sunshine my face is burnt.
Through exhaustion [...]
Now you [...]'
[Long story short, Gilgamesh impresses them with his answer. They wish him well.]
The scorpion-man opened his mouth to speak,
Saying a word to King Gilgamesh, flesh of the gods:
'Go, Gilgamesh! May the mountains of Mashu allow you to pass!
'May the mountains and hills watch over your going!
Let them help you in safety to continue your journey!
May the gate of the mountains open before you!'
Gilgamesh heard these words,
What the scorpion-man told him he took to heart,
He took the path of the Sun God [Shamash.]
At one double-hour
The darkness was dense, and light was there none:
it did not allow him to see behind him.
At two double-hours
The darkness was dense, and light was there none:
it did not allow him to see behind him.
At three double-hours
The darkness was dense, and light was there none:
it did not allow him to see behind him.
At four double-hours
The darkness was dense, and light was there none:
it did not allow him to see behind him.
At five double-hours
The darkness was dense, and light was there none:
it did not allow him to see behind him.
On six double-hours,
The darkness was dense, and light was there none:
it did not allow him to see behind him.
On reaching seven double-hours
The darkness was dense, and light was there none:
it did not allow him to see behind him.
At eight double-hours he was hurrying.
The darkness was dense, and light was there none:
it did not allow him to see behind him.
At nine double-hours [he faced] the north wind,
[It weathered] his face.
The darkness was dense, and light was there none:
it did not allow him to see behind him.
On reaching ten double-hours,
[The end] was very near.
On reaching eleven double-hours a journey remained of one double-hour,
At twelve double-hours Gilgamesh came out in advance of the Sun.
There was brilliance:
He went straight, as soon as he saw them,
To the trees of the gods.
A carnelian tree was in fruit,
Hung with bunches of grapes, lovely to look on.
A lapis lazuli tree bore foliage,
In full fruit and gorgeous to gaze on .
[Cypress and cedar trees stood before him]
[Another great tree stood before him.]
Its leaf-stems were of pappardilu-stone
And leaves Sea coral [trunk] sasu-stone,
Instead of thorns and briars there grew stone vials.
He touched a carob, it was abashmu-stone,
Agate and haematite [grew all around him]
As Gilgamesh walked about, [Shiduri saw him.]
She lifted her head in order to watch him.
SYNOPSIS: Gilgamesh, in grief, abandons his city and sets out into the wild. Afraid of the death that took Enkidu, he searches for Ut-Napishitim, the immortal who survived the Flood. His search brings him to the Mashu Mountains, where Shamhat travels each day to bring the sun to rise and set. The entrance is guarded by Scorpion People who take in his story and decide to let him pass. Gilgamesh travels through the mountains for a full day, most in absolute darkness, before arriving in a miraculous garden of trees made of and bearing precious stones and jewels. As he takes in his surroundings, Shiduri the barmaid (a common figure in Mesopotamian myth) sees him.
Did bitterly weep as he wandered the wild:
'Shall I die too? Am I not like Enkidu?
Sorrow has entered my heart!
'I am afraid of death, so I wander the wild,
To find Uta-napishti, son of Ubar-Tutu.
On the road, travelling swiftly,
I came one night to a mountain pass.
'I saw some lions and grew afraid,
I lifted my head to the moon in prayer,
To Sin, the lamp of the gods, went my supplications:
"O Sin and keep me safe!'"
That night he lay down, then woke from a dream:
In the presence of the moon he grew glad of life,
He took up his axe in his hand,
He drew forth the dirk from his belt.
Like an arrow among them he fell,
He smote the lions, he killed them and scattered them.
He clad himself in their skins, he ate their flesh.
Gilgamesh dug wells that never existed before,
He drank the water, as he chased the winds.
Shamash grew worried, and bending down,
He spoke to Gilgamesh:
'O Gilgamesh, where are you wandering?
The life that you seek you never will find.'
Said Gilgamesh to him, to the hero Shamash:
'After roaming, wandering all through the wild,
When I enter the Netherworld will rest be scarce?
I shall lie there sleeping all down the years!
'Let my eyes see the sun and be sated with light!
The darkness is hidden, how much light is there left?
When may the dead see the rays of the sun?'
To Mashu's twin mountains he came,
Which daily guard the rising sun,
Whose tops support the fabric of heaven,
Whose base reaches down to the Netherworld.
There were scorpion-men guarding its gate,
Whose terror was dread, whose glance was death,
Whose radiance was fearful, overwhelming the mountains at
Sunrise and sunset they guarded the sun.
Gilgamesh saw them, in fear and dread he covered his face,
Then he collected his wits, and drew nearer their presence.
The scorpion-man called to his mate:
'He who has come to us, flesh of the gods is his body.'
The scorpion-man's mate answered him:
'Two-thirds of him is god, and one third human.'
The scorpion-man called out,
Saying a word to King Gilgamesh, flesh of the gods:
'How did you come here, such a far road?
How did you get here, to be in my presence?
How did you cross the seas, whose passage is perilous?
How did you arrive? Let me learn of your journey!'
'I am seeking the road of my forefather, Uta-napishti,
Who attended the gods' assembly, and found life eternal:
Of death and life he shall tell me the secret.'
The scorpion-man opened his mouth to speak, saying to Gilgamesh:
'Never before, O Gilgamesh, was there one like you,
Never did anyone travel the path of the mountain.
'For twelve double-hours its interior extends,
The darkness is dense, and light is there none.
And you, how will you go forward?'
'Through sorrow [and grief, my heart is weathered.]
By frost and by sunshine my face is burnt.
Through exhaustion [...]
Now you [...]'
[Long story short, Gilgamesh impresses them with his answer. They wish him well.]
The scorpion-man opened his mouth to speak,
Saying a word to King Gilgamesh, flesh of the gods:
'Go, Gilgamesh! May the mountains of Mashu allow you to pass!
'May the mountains and hills watch over your going!
Let them help you in safety to continue your journey!
May the gate of the mountains open before you!'
Gilgamesh heard these words,
What the scorpion-man told him he took to heart,
He took the path of the Sun God [Shamash.]
At one double-hour
The darkness was dense, and light was there none:
it did not allow him to see behind him.
At two double-hours
The darkness was dense, and light was there none:
it did not allow him to see behind him.
At three double-hours
The darkness was dense, and light was there none:
it did not allow him to see behind him.
At four double-hours
The darkness was dense, and light was there none:
it did not allow him to see behind him.
At five double-hours
The darkness was dense, and light was there none:
it did not allow him to see behind him.
On six double-hours,
The darkness was dense, and light was there none:
it did not allow him to see behind him.
On reaching seven double-hours
The darkness was dense, and light was there none:
it did not allow him to see behind him.
At eight double-hours he was hurrying.
The darkness was dense, and light was there none:
it did not allow him to see behind him.
At nine double-hours [he faced] the north wind,
[It weathered] his face.
The darkness was dense, and light was there none:
it did not allow him to see behind him.
On reaching ten double-hours,
[The end] was very near.
On reaching eleven double-hours a journey remained of one double-hour,
At twelve double-hours Gilgamesh came out in advance of the Sun.
There was brilliance:
He went straight, as soon as he saw them,
To the trees of the gods.
A carnelian tree was in fruit,
Hung with bunches of grapes, lovely to look on.
A lapis lazuli tree bore foliage,
In full fruit and gorgeous to gaze on .
[Cypress and cedar trees stood before him]
[Another great tree stood before him.]
Its leaf-stems were of pappardilu-stone
And leaves Sea coral [trunk] sasu-stone,
Instead of thorns and briars there grew stone vials.
He touched a carob, it was abashmu-stone,
Agate and haematite [grew all around him]
As Gilgamesh walked about, [Shiduri saw him.]
She lifted her head in order to watch him.
SYNOPSIS: Gilgamesh, in grief, abandons his city and sets out into the wild. Afraid of the death that took Enkidu, he searches for Ut-Napishitim, the immortal who survived the Flood. His search brings him to the Mashu Mountains, where Shamhat travels each day to bring the sun to rise and set. The entrance is guarded by Scorpion People who take in his story and decide to let him pass. Gilgamesh travels through the mountains for a full day, most in absolute darkness, before arriving in a miraculous garden of trees made of and bearing precious stones and jewels. As he takes in his surroundings, Shiduri the barmaid (a common figure in Mesopotamian myth) sees him.
