Gilgamesh's journey and Utnapishtim’s tale of the Great Flood
He roamed where men did not belong,
with feet made sore by right and wrong.
The lion’s pelt across his back,
his eyes were storms, his soul a crack.
Through valleys scorched and mountains numb,
through nights that made the dreamers dumb,
he came at last to darkest shore—
the gates where no man asks for more.
Two scorpion guards, with blazing breath,
who kept the path that walked with death,
let him pass—his face so worn,
they knew this king was twice reborn.
He traveled then beneath the earth,
where sun forgets and silence births.
Through twelve leagues of eternal black,
his thoughts his only turning back.
At last he came to shores of sand,
where Siduri poured with trembling hand
a cup of wine, and spoke with grace:
“Why chase the wind no man can face?”
But still he pressed beyond her plea,
and crossed the Waters of the Sea,
until he reached a quiet shore
where Utnapishtim kept the lore.
“O deathless man, I seek your gift—
to stop the tide, to make the shift.
How did you gain eternal breath,
and break the iron spine of death?”
The old one spoke: “A flood once came,
from gods enraged by human shame.
They planned to drown the world in night—
to sweep away both wrong and right.
But Ea, god of whispering streams,
warned me gently in my dreams.
He told me: build a box of wood,
to carry seed and kin and good.
And when the rains consumed the sky,
and all beneath was left to die,
my ark alone withstood the wave—
the storm became our floating grave.
For six days long, the sea held sway,
then silence fell on the seventh day.
I loosed a dove, then raven bold,
until dry land the bird foretold.
The gods repented, soothed their rage—
but time had turned a darker page.
They set me here, far from men’s breath,
a gift of life—a curse of death.”
The second to last chapter of the Akkadian 4000 year old poem, originally etched in stone in what is now called Iraq.
Translated from the original by Andrew George
and, on my request, scripted in original verse by Madam Chat GPT.
M@Foxglove.Taranaki.NZ