THE EPIC OF GILGAMESH

ISHTAR AND GILGAMESH, AND THE DEATH OF ENKIDU

GILGAMESH Washed out his long locks and cleaned his weapons; he flung back his hair from his shoulders; he 

threw off his stained clothes and changed them for new. He put on his royal robes and made them fast. When Gilgamesh 

had put on the crown, glorious Ishtar lifted her eyes, seeing the beauty of Gilgamesh. She said, ‘Come to me Gilgamesh, 

and be my bridegroom; grant me seed of your body, let me be your bride and you shall be my husband. I will harness for 

you a chariot of lapis lazuli and of gold, with wheels of gold and horns of copper; and you shall have mighty demons of 

the storm for draft mules. When you enter our house in the fragrance of cedar-wood, threshold and throne will kiss your 

feet. Kings, rulers, and princes will bow down before you; they shall bring you tribute from the mountains and the plain. 

Your ewes shall drop twins and your goats triplets; your pack-ass shall outrun mules; your oxen shall have no rivals, and 

your chariot horses shall be famous far-off for their swiftness.' 

Gilgamesh opened his mouth and answered glorious Ishtar, ‘If I take you in marriage, what gifts can I give in return? 

What ointments and clothing for your body? I would gladly give you bread and all sorts of food fit for a god. I would give 

you wine to drink fit for a queen. I would pour out barley to stuff your granary; but as for making you my wife - that I will 

not. How would it go with me? Your lovers have found you like a brazier which smoulders in the cold, a backdoor which 

keeps out neither squall of wind nor storm, a castle which crushes the garrison, pitch that blackens the bearer, a water-skin 

that chafes the carrier, a stone which falls from the parapet, a battering-ram turned back from the enemy, a sandal that trips 

the wearer. Which of your lovers did you ever love for ever? What shepherd of yours has pleased you for all time? Listen 

to me while I tell the tale of your lovers. There was Tammuz, the lover of your youth, for him you decreed wailing, year 

after year. You loved the many coloured roller, but still you struck and broke his wing; now in the grove he sits and cries, 

"kappi, kappi, my wing, my wing." You have loved the lion tremendous in strength: seven pits you dug for him, and 

seven. You have loved the stallion magnificent in battle, and for him you decreed whip and spur and a thong, to gallop 

seven leagues by force and to muddy the water before he drinks; and for his mother Silili lamentations. You have loved 

the shepherd of the flock; he made meal-cake for you day after day, he killed kids for your sake. You struck and turned 

him into a wolf, now his own herd-boys chase him away, his own hounds worry his flanks. And did you not love 

Ishullanu, the gardener of your father's palm grove? He brought you baskets filled with dates without end; every day he