Gilgamesh Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  GILGAMESH

  I

  II

  III

  IV

  Names and Places Appearing in the Narrative

  About the Gilgamesh

  An Autobiographical Postscript

  Gilgamesh: An Afterword by John H. Marks

  Notes to Afterword

  Afterword to the Mariner Edition

  About the Author

  Footnotes

  FIRST MARINER BOOKS EDITION 2003

  Copyright © 1970 by Herbert Mason

  John H. Marks Afterword copyright © 1972 by Penguin Putnam Inc.

  Herbert Mason Afterword copyright © 2003 by Herbert Mason

  All rights reserved

  For information about permission to reproduce selections from this book, write to Permissions, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Publishing Company, 215 Park Avenue South, New York, New York 10003.

  www.hmhco.com

  The Library of Congress has cataloged the print edition as follows:

  Mason, Herbert, date

  Gilgamesh: a verse narrative / Herbert Mason.—

  1st Mariner Books ed.

  p. cm.

  “A Mariner book.”

  ISBN-13: 978-0-618-27564-9 (pbk.)

  ISBN-10: 0-618-27564-9 (pbk.)

  1. Erech (Extinct city)—Kings and rulers—Poetry. 2. Epic poetry, Assyro-Babylonian—Adaptations. 3. Epic poetry, American. I. Gilgamesh. II. Title.

  PS3563.A7923G5 2003

  811'.54—dc21 2003050853

  eISBN 978-0-547-52660-7

  v2.0315

  A portion of this book appeared in The American Scholar.

  GILGAMESH

  A VERSE NARRATIVE

  It is an old story

  But one that can still be told

  About a man who loved

  And lost a friend to death

  And learned he lacked the power

  To bring him back to life.

  It is the story of Gilgamesh

  And his friend Enkidu.

  I

  Gilgamesh was king of Uruk,

  A city set between the Tigris

  And Euphrates rivers

  In ancient Babylonia.

  Enkidu was born on the Steppe

  Where he grew up among the animals.

  Gilgamesh was called a god and man;

  Enkidu was an animal and man.

  It is the story

  Of their becoming human together.

  As king, Gilgamesh was a tyrant to his people.

  He demanded, from an old birthright,

  The privilege of sleeping with their brides

  Before the husbands were permitted.

  Sometimes he pushed his people half to death

  With work rebuilding Uruk’s walls,

  And then without an explanation let

  The walls go unattended and decay,

  And left his people dreaming of the past

  And longing for a change.

  They had grown tired of his contradictions

  And his callous ways.

  They knew his world was old

  And cluttered with spoiled arts

  That they defended but could not revive.

  Enkidu was ignorant of oldness.

  He ran with the animals,

  Drank at their springs,

  Not knowing fear or wisdom.

  He freed them from the traps

  The hunters set.

  A hunter’s son one day

  Saw Enkidu opening a trap:

  The creature was all covered with hair

  And yet his hands had the dexterity of men’s;

  He ran beside the freed gazelle

  Like a brother

  And they drank together at a pool

  Like two friends

  Sharing some common journey

  Not needing to speak but just continue.

  Gilgamesh was a godlike man alone

  With his thoughts in idleness except

  For those evenings when he went down

  Into the marketplace to the Family House

  To sleep with the virgins, or when

  He told his dreams to his mother, Ninsun.

  The hunter listened to his son’s

  Description of Enkidu

  And was both angry and afraid.

  He told his son to go to Uruk

  And to tell what he had seen

  To Gilgamesh and to ask him

  To send a prostitute

  Who would sleep with Enkidu

  And make the animals ashamed of him.

  Gilgamesh would understand, for he was king.

  The hunter’s son made the day’s journey

  To Uruk and told what he had seen

  To Gilgamesh, showing him

  His father’s anger and his fear

  And praising the strength of the strange

  Creature who had come to his father’s plains

  And freed the animals from the traps

  And lived as one of them

  And threatened the livelihood of men.

  Gilgamesh listened but he had heard

  So many stories of the Wondrous

  Creatures of the Forest and the Steppe

  That he could hardly be aroused.

  He sent the prostitute but then forgot

  What he had listened to.

  The hunter left the prostitute alone

  At the spring. When evening came,

  Enkidu appeared among the animals

  And drank with them and rested at their side.

  When he awoke he saw a creature

  Unlike any he had seen before

  Standing near the water, its skin smooth, tan

  And hairless except for its head

  And between its legs.

  He wanted to touch it, but then

  It made sounds he had never heard,

  Not like the sounds of his friends, the animals,

  And he was afraid. The prostitute

  Came close to him and the animals withdrew.

  She took his hand and guided it

  Across her breasts and between her legs

  And touched him with her fingers

  Gently and bent down and moistened

  Him with her lips then drew him

  Slowly to the ground.

  When he rose again

  Looking for his friends who had gone,

  He felt a strange exhaustion,

  As if life had left his body.

  He felt their absence.

  He imagined the gazelles raising the dry dust

  Like soft brush floating on the crests of sand

  Swiftly changing direction, and the serpents

  Asleep at the springs, slipping effortlessly

  Into the water, and the wild she-camel

  Vanishing into the desert. His friends

  Had left him to a vast aloneness

  He had never felt before. The lions returned

  To the mountains, the water buffalo

  To the rivers, the birds to the sky.

  Gilgamesh woke anxiously from a dream

  And said to Ninsun: I saw a star

  Fall from the sky, and the people

  Of Uruk stood around and admired it,

  And I was jealous and tried to carry it away

  But I was too weak and I failed.

  What does it mean? I have not dreamed

  Like this before.

  She said: Your equal is the star

  Which fell, as if a sign from Heaven

  Had been sent which is too heavy

  But which you will try to lift

  And drive away, and fail.


  But I have never failed before, he interrupted

  Her, surprised himself at his anxiety.

  It will be a person, she continued,

  Speaking in her somber monotone,

  A companion who is your equal

  In strength, a person loyal to a friend,

  Who will not forsake you and whom you

  Will never wish to leave.

  Gilgamesh was quiet at this interpretation

  Of his dream.

  That night he had a vision of an ax.

  What does this mean, he said on waking;

  The people stood around the ax

  When I tried to lift it, and I failed.

  I feel such tiredness. I cannot explain.

  Ninsun said: The ax is a man

  Who is your friend and equal

  He will come. A graceful man

  Who will lift you out of tiredness.

  O Ninsun, I want your words to be true.

  I have never known such weariness before,

  As if some life in me has disappeared

  Or needs to be filled up again.

  I am alone and I have longed

  For some companionship. My people

  Also have grown tired of my solitude.

  ***

  The prostitute slept beside Enkidu

  Until he was used to her body.

  She knew how gradually one stops

  Desiring to run with old companions.

  One morning she awoke and said to him:

  Why do you still want to run with the animals?

  You are a human being now, not like them.

  You are like a god, like Gilgamesh.

  I will lead you to Uruk

  Where you belong, to the Temple of Ana

  Where Gilgamesh rules over his people

  And is strong, and you will recognize

  Yourself in him, as in a clear stream

  You see your own face, a man’s face.

  He listened to her words

  And to the unfamiliar names

  Of Anu, Gilgamesh . . . and he felt weak.

  He let her clothe him in a portion

  Of her scarlet robe and lead him

  To a shepherd’s house

  Where he was welcomed and taught to eat bread

  And drink the liquor that the shepherds drank.

  His soul felt new and strange

  And his face was hot with sweat

  And somehow gay. The prostitute

  Shaved the long hair off his body;

  She washed him with perfumes and oils,

  And he became a man. At night

  He stood watch for the shepherds

  Against the lions so they could sleep,

  He captured wolves for them,

  And he was known as their Protector.

  One day a man who was going to Uruk

  Stopped to eat at the shepherd’s house.

  He told them he was hurrying to the marketplace

  To choose for himself a virgin bride

  Whom Gilgamesh by his birthright

  Would sleep with before him.

  Enkidu’s face was pale.

  He felt a weakness in his body

  At the mention of their king.

  He asked the prostitute

  Why this should be his birthright.

  She answered: He is king.

  Enkidu entered Uruk.

  The prostitute walked behind him.

  The marketplace filled with people

  When they heard that he was coming.

  People said: He looks like Gilgamesh

  But he is shorter and also stronger;

  He has the power of the Steppe,

  The milk of the animals he sucked.

  They hailed him as the equal of their king.

  At night when Gilgamesh approached

  The market square to go into the Family House

  Where the bride was to be chosen, Enkidu stood

  Blocking his way. Gilgamesh looked at the stranger

  And listened to his people’s shouts of praise

  For someone other than himself

  And lunged at Enkidu.

  They fell like wolves

  At each other’s throats,

  Like bulls bellowing,

  And horses gasping for breath

  That have run all day

  Desperate for rest and water,

  Crushing the gate they fell against.

  The dry dust billowed in the marketplace

  And people shrieked. The dogs raced

  In and out between their legs.

  A child screamed at their feet

  That danced the dance of life

  Which hovers close to death.

  And quiet suddenly fell on them

  When Gilgamesh stood still

  Exhausted. He turned to Enkidu who leaned

  Against his shoulder and looked into his eyes

  And saw himself in the other, just as Enkidu saw

  Himself in Gilgamesh.

  In the silence of the people they began to laugh

  And clutched each other in their breathless exaltation.

  II

  Gilgamesh spoke then:

  We go to kill the Evil One,

  Humbaba. We must prove

  Ourselves more powerful than he.

  Enkidu was afraid of the forest of Humbaba

  And urged him not to go, but he

  Was not as strong as Gilgamesh in argument,

  And they were friends:

  They had embraced and made their vow

  To stay together always,

  No matter what the obstacle.

  Enkidu tried to hold his fear

  But he was sick at heart:

  I feel the weakness that I felt before

  Come over my body, as if I tried to lift

  My arms and found that they were hollow.

  It is Humbaba who has taken your strength,

  Gilgamesh spoke out, anxious

  For the journey. We must kill him

  And end his evil power over us.

  No, Enkidu cried; it is the journey

  That will take away our life.

  Don’t be afraid, said Gilgamesh.

  We are together. There is nothing

  We should fear.

  I learned, Enkidu said, when I lived

  With the animals never to go down

  Into that forest. I learned that there is death

  In Humbaba. Why do you want

  To raise his anger?

  Only half listening Gilgamesh thought

  Aloud about the cedars he would climb.

  How can we climb those cedars?

  Enkidu tried to sway his thoughts:

  Humbaba never sleeps. He is the guardian

  Whom Enlil has commanded to protect

  The sacred trees by terror. I have learned

  His sound is like a flood’s sound

  Slowly forming in the distance,

  Then enveloping all other sounds.

  Even the cries of animals cannot be heard.

  Trees are hushed, the wind

  Still moves them back and forth

  But noiselessly. As when one senses

  Violence gathering its force,

  Soon there is no sound apart from it,

  Not even one’s own thoughts in terror.

  I have learned that from his mouth springs fire

  That scorches the earth and in a moment

  There is nothing left alive,

  No tree, no insect, as in a dream

  That makes one wake and cry

  Out of the pain one cannot find

  The source of, out of nothing;

  One wakes and everything has vanished.

  I have learned Humbaba is the face of death.

  He hears each insect crawling toward the edge

  Of the forest; he twitches and it dies.

  Do you think he could not hear two men?

  Why are you worr
ied about death?

  Only the gods are immortal anyway,

  Sighed Gilgamesh.

  What men do is nothing, so fear is never

  Justified. What happened to your power

  That once could challenge and equal mine?

  I will go ahead of you, and if I die

  I will at least have the reward

  Of having people say: He died in war

  Against Humbaba. You cannot discourage me

  With fears and hesitations.

  I will fight Humbaba,

  I will cut down his cedars.

  Tell the armorers to build us two-edged swords

  And double shields and tell them

  I am impatient and cannot wait long.

  Thus Gilgamesh and Enkidu went

  Together to the marketplace

  To notify the Elders of Uruk

  Who were meeting in their senate.

  They too were talking of Humbaba,

  As they often did,

  Edging always in their thoughts

  Toward the forbidden.

  The one you speak of, Gilgamesh addressed them,

  I now must meet. I want to prove

  Him not the awesome thing we think he is

  And that the boundaries set up by gods

  Are not unbreakable. I will defeat him

  In his cedar forest. The youth of Uruk

  Need this fight. They have grown soft

  And restless.

  The old men leaned a little forward

  Remembering old wars. A flush burned on

  Their cheeks. It seemed a little dangerous

  And yet they saw their king

  Was seized with passion for this fight.