Tablet VII
In the middle of the night, Gilgamesh woke up. He told his dream to Enkidu:
I dreamed of a heavenly palace. The immortal gods sit together. Three gods, Anu, Ellil, and our patron Shamash, had a conversation.
Ellil said to Anu:
– Why did they kill the bull that I created? This sin is not their only one. They stole the cedars of Lebanon, which were guarded by Humbaba. Let them pay, take their lives.
– No! -Ellil objected. – Let only Enkidu die. Gilgamesh is worthy of forgiveness.
– Why should he be punished? – Shamash intervened in the conversation. – Was it not your decision, Ellil, for the bull and Humbaba to be killed?
– You should better be silent, the murderers’ protector! – Ellil was furious.- I know that you are their advisor.
Hearing this story, Enkidu turned pale and turned away. His lips fluttered like fly wings. Tears rolled down at Gilgamesh’s face.
– I don’t understand why I have to die? – said Enkidu- I did not chop the cedars, and I urged you not to touch them. Why would the punishment fall on me?
– Do not worry! – Gilgamesh told his brother. – I will beg the gods to keep you alive. I will bring riches to their altars. I will adorn their idols with gold and silver.
But Shamash’s sad voice was heard from the sky:
– Don’t waste gold and silver, Gilgamesh! The word spoken in the mouth will not return. God will never cancel his decisions. Such is the fate of man! People leave the world without a remnant.
– Well! I’m ready to leave! – Enkidu agreed. – But I ask you, Shamash, to take revenge on all those who made me a man. Let the hunter who told about me to be punished! Let his hand weaken and not be able to pull the bowstrings! Let the arrow from his bow fly past the target! Let the beast bypass his traps! May he be hungry all his life! Be cursed the harlot who brought me to the city! Let the drunken tramp flood her womb with a strong drink! Let him rip off the red beads from her neck and take it for himself! Let the potter throw a lump of clay in her back! Let the silver disappear from her home! Let the wasteland in the backyard to be her bed! Let her know no other protection than the shadow of the wall! Let the cripple beat her on the cheeks! Let the wives who are remained faithful to their spouses revile her! She brought dirt to me, a pure person, and over me, an impeccable one, she committed a deception.
– You, Enkidu, are wrong,” Shamash responded. – I decline your curse to the harlot. After all, she fed you with bread, which the gods deserve. And she gave you the drinks, which is worthy of kings. She gave Gilgamesh as a brother to you. Now you are going to die! On the bed of sorrow, Gilgamesh will lay you down. And he will surround you with royal honor. And he will order the people of Uruk to mourn you. And with joy, as the gods want, the mournful ceremony will be performed.
Tablet VIII
As the dawn came up, Gilgamesh, standing near Enkidu, sang his funeral mourning:
– Enkidu! My brother! Your mother is an antelope, your father is an onager; they gave birth to you! The animals gave you their milk in distant pastures. The paths of the cedar forest remember you, day and night tirelessly. The wooded mountain ledges that we climbed together are crumbling! The cypresses and cedars, through which we made our way together with you, are emitting resin! Bears are roaring, hyenas and tigers, ibex and lynxes, deer, gazelles and all kinds of steppe creatures are moaning! Together the sacred Kerhe grieves, remembering your steps, Enkidu, and the bright Euphrates, where we drew water and filled our furs. The elders who sent us to the battle are crying in the fenced-off Uruk! Women cannot calm their tears, in front of them, we killed the bull. Those who fed you with bread are crying. The slave girl who anointed you is crying. The slave man, who served you a cup with wine, is crying. How would I not cry for you, if you are my brother? You, Enkidu, are my mighty ax, my flawless dagger, my reliable shield, my holiday cloak, my armors. What kind of restless sleep possesses you? You have become dark, you cannot hear me. I touched your heart, but it does not beat. My friend, I will create a monument for you, which has not yet been in the world.