The Epic of Gilgamesh (c. 2000 BCE)
Selections
When the daylight came Enkidu got up and cried to Gilgamesh, “0 my brother,
such a dream I had last night. Anu, Enlil, Ea and heavenly Shamash took counsel
together, and Anu said to Enlil, Because they have killed the Bull of Heaven, and
because they have killed Humbaba who guarded the Cedar Mountain one of the two
must die.’. . .”
So Enkidu lay stretched out before Gilgalmesh: Throughout his tears ran down in streams and
he said to Gilgamesh, “0 my brother, so dear as you are to me, brother, yet
they will take me from you.” Again he said, “I must sit down on the threshold
of the dead and never again will I see my dear brother with my eyes.”
In bitterness of spirit he poured out his heart to his friend. “It was I who
cut down the cedar, I who levelled the forest, I who slew Humbaba and now see
what has become of me. Listen, my friend, this is the dream I dreamed last
night. The heavens roared, and earth rumbled back an answer; between them stood
I before an awful being, the sombre-faced man- bird; he had directed on me his
purpose. His was a vampire face, his foot was a lion’s foot, his hand was an
eagle’s talon. He fell on me and his claws were in my hair, he held me fast and
I smothered; then he transformed me so that my arms became wings covered with
feathers. He turned his stare towards me, and he led me away to the
“There is the house whose people sit in darkness; dust is their food and
clay their meat. They are clothed like birds with wings for covering, they see
no light, they sit in darkness. I entered the house of dust and I saw the kings
of the earth, their crowns put away for ever; rulers and princes, all those who
once wore kingly crowns and ruled the world in the days of old. They who had
stood in the place of the gods like Anu and Enlil, stood now like servants to
fetch baked meats in the house of dust, to carry cooked meat and cold water
from the water-skin. In the house of dust which I entered were high priests and
acolytes, priests of the incantation and of ecstasy; there were servers of the
temple, and there was Etana, that king of
Gilgamesh had peeled off his clothes, he listened to his words and wept
quick tears, Gilgamesh listened and his tears flowed. .
This day on which Enkidu dreamed came to an end and he lay stricken with
sickness. One whole day he lay on his bed and his suffering increased. He said
to Gilgamesh, the friend on whose account he had left the wilderness, “Once I
ran for you, for the water of life, and I now have nothing.” A second day he
lay on his bed and Gilgamesh watched over him but the sickness increased. A
third day he lay on his bed, he called out to Gilgamesh, rousing him up. Now he
was weak and his eyes were blind with weeping. Ten days he lay and his
suffering increased, eleven and twelve days he lay on his bed of pain. Then he
called to Gilgamesh, “My friend, the great goddess cursed me and I must die in
shame. I shall not die like a man fallen in battle; I feared to fall, but happy
is the man who falls in the battle, for I must die in shame.” And Gilgamesh
wept over Enkidu. With the first light of dawn he raised his voice and said to
the counsellors of Uruk:
“Hear me, great ones of Uruk, I weep for Enkidu, my friend, Bitterly moaning
like a woman mourning
I weep for my brother.
O Enkidu, my brother,
You were the axe at my side,
My hand’s strength, the sword in my belt,
The shield before me,
A glorious robe, my fairest ornament;
An evil Fate has robbed me.
All the people of Eridu
Weep for you Enkidu.
What is this sleep which holds you now? You are lost in the dark and cannot
hear me.”
He touched his heart but it did not beat, nor did he lift his eyes again. When
Gilgamesh touched his heart it did not beat. So Gilgamesh laid a veil, as one
veils the bride, over his friend. He began to rage like a lion, like a lioness
robbed of her whelps. This way and that he paced round the bed, he tore out his
hair and strewed it around. He dragged off his splendid robes and flung them
down as though they were abominations.
In the first light of dawn Gilgamesh cried out, “I made you rest on a royal
bed, you reclined on a couch at my left hand, the princes of the earth kissed
your feet. I will cause all the people of Uruk to weep over you and raise the
dirge of the dead. The joyful people will stoop with sorrow; and when you have
gone to the earth I will let my hair grow long for your sake, I will wander
through the wilderness in the skin of a lion.” The next day also, in the first
light, Gilgamesh lamented; seven days and seven nights he wept for Enkidu, until
the worm fastened on him. Only then he gave him up to the earth, for the
Anunnaki, the judges [of the dead], had seized him.
* * *
Bitterly Gilgamesh wept for his friend Enkidu; he wandered over the
wilderness as a hunter, he roamed over the plains; in his bitterness he cried, “How
can I rest, how can I be at peace? Despair is in my heart. What my brother is
now, that shall I be when I am dead. Because I am afraid of death I will go as
best I can to find Utnapishtim whom they call the Faraway, for he has entered
the assembly of the gods.” So Gilgamesh travelled over the wilderness, he
wandered over the grasslands, a long journey, in search of Utnapishtim, whom
the gods took after the deluge; and they set him to live in the land of Dilmun,
in the garden of the sun; and to him alone of men they gave everlasting life. .
. .
* * *
“. . . My friend who was very dear to me and who endured dangers beside me, Enkidu
my brother, whom I loved, the end of mortality has overtaken him. I wept for
him seven days and nights till the worm fastened on him. Because of my brother
I am afraid of death, because of my brother I stray through the wilderness and
cannot rest. But now, young woman, maker of wine, since I have seen your face
do not let me see the face of death which I dread so much.”
She answered, “Gilgamesh, where are you hurrying to? You will never find
that life for which you are looking. When the gods created man they allotted to
him death, but life they retained in their own keeping. As for you, Gilgamesh, fill
your belly with good things; day and night, night and day, dance and be merry, feast
and rejoice. Let your clothes be fresh, bathe yourself in water, cherish the
little child that holds your hand, and make your wife happy in your embrace; for
this too is the lot of man.”
But Gilgamesh said to Siduri, the young woman, “How can I be silent, how can I rest, when Enkidu whom I love is dust, and I too shall die and be laid in the earth. You live by the sea-shore and look into the heart of it; young woman, tell me now, which is the way to Utnapishtim, the son of Ubara-Tutu? What directions are there for the passage; give me, oh, give me directions, I will cross the Ocean if it is possible; if it is not I will wander still farther in the wilderness.”. . .
Oh father Utnapishtim, you who have entered the assembly of the gods, I wish
to question you concerning the living and the dead, how shall I find the life
for which I am searching?”
Utnapishtim said, “There is no permanence. Do we build a house to stand for ever, do we seal a contract to hold for all time? Do brothers divide an inheritance to keep for ever, does the flood-time of rivers endure? It is only the nymph of the dragon-fly who sheds her larva and sees the sun in his glory. From the days of old there is no permanence. The sleeping and the dead, how alike they are, they are like a painted death. What is there between the master and the servant when both have fulfilled their doom? When the Anunnaki, the judges, come together, and Mamrnetun the mother of destinies, together they decree the fates of men. Life and death they allot but the day of death they do not disclose.”