Hear how it swells and dies upon the breeze!
To softest whisper of the leaves of trees; Then sweeter, grander, n.o.bler, sweeping comes, Like myriad lyres that peal through Heaven"s domes.
But, oh! how sad and sweet the notes now come!
Like music of the spheres that softly hum; It rises, falls, with measured melody, With saddest notes and mournful symphony.
From all the universe sad notes repeat With doleful strains of woe transcendent, sweet; Hush! hear the song! my throbbing heart be still!
The songs of G.o.ds above the heavens fill!
"Oh, weep with your sweet tears, and mourning chant, O"er this dread loss of Heaven"s queen.
With her, O sisters, join your sweetest plaint O"er our dear Tammuz, Tammuz slain.
Come, all ye spirits, with your drooping wings, No more to us sweet joy he brings; Ah, me, my brother![2]
Oh, weep! oh, weep! ye spirits of the air, Oh, weep! oh, weep! An-un-na-ci!
Our own dear queen is filled with dread despair.
Oh, pour your tears, dear earth and sky, Oh, weep with bitter tears, O dear Sedu, O"er fearful deeds of Nin-azu; Ah, me, my brother!
Let joy be stilled! and every hope be dead!
And tears alone our hearts distil.
My love has gone!--to darkness he has fled; Dread sorrow"s cup for us, oh, fill!
And weep for Tammuz we have held so dear, Sweet sisters of the earth and air; Ah, me, my sister!
Oh, come ye, dearest, dearest Zi-re-nu, With grace and mercy help us bear Our loss and hers; our weeping queen, oh, see!
And drop with us a sister"s tear.
Before your eyes our brother slain! oh, view; Oh, weep with us o"er him so true; Ah, me, his sister!
The sky is dead; its beauty all is gone, Oh, weep, ye clouds, for my dead love!
Your queen in her dread sorrow now is p.r.o.ne.
O rocks and hills in tears, oh, move!
And all my heavenly flowerets for me weep, O"er him who now in death doth sleep; Ah, me, my Tammuz!
Oh, drop o"er him your fragrant dewy tears, For your own queen who brings you joy, For Love, the Queen of Love, no longer cheers, Upon my heart it all doth cloy.
Alas! I give you love, nor can receive, O all my children for me grieve; Ah, me, my Tammuz!
Alas! alas! my heart is dying--dead!
With all these bitter pangs of grief Despair hath fallen on my queenly head, Oh, is there, sisters, no relief?
Hath Tammuz from me ever, ever, gone?
My heart is dead, and turned to stone; Ah, me, his queen!
My sister spirits, O my brothers dear, My sorrow strikes me to the earth; Oh, let me die! I now no fate can fear, My heart is left a fearful dearth.
Alas, from me all joy! all joy! hath gone; Oh, Ninazu, what hast thou done?
Ah, me, his queen!"
To Hades" world beyond our sight they go, And leave upon the skies Mar-gid-da"s[3] glow, That shines eternally along the sky, The road where souls redeemed shall ever fly.
Prince Tammuz now again to life restored, Is crowned in Hades as its King and Lord,[4]
And Ishtar"s sorrow thus appeased, she flies To earth, and fills with light and love the skies.
[Footnote 1: "Zi-ni," p.r.o.nounced "Zee-nee," spirits of the wind.]
[Footnote 2: "Ah, me, my brother, and, ah, me, my sister! Ah, me, Adonis (or Tammuz), and ah, me, his lady (or queen)!" is the wailing cry uttered by the worshippers of Tammuz or Adonis when celebrating his untimely death. It is referred to in Jer. xxii. 18, and in Ezek. viii. 14, and Amos viii. 10, and Zech. xii. 10, 11. See Smith"s revised edition of "Chal.
Acc. of Genesis," by Sayce, pp. 247, 248.]
[Footnote 3: "Mar-gid-da," "the Long Road." We have also given the Accadian name for "The Milky Way." It was also called by them the "River of Night."]
[Footnote 4: "Lord of Hades" is one of the t.i.tles given to Tammuz in an Accadian hymn found in "C.I.W.A.," vol. iv. 27, 1, 2. See also translation in "Records of the Past," vol. xi. p. 131.]
TABLET VII--COLUMN I
THE KING AND SEER CONVERSING ON THEIR WAY TO KHASI-SADRA--INTERPRETATION OF THE KING"S DREAM IN THE PALACE ON THE NIGHT OF THE FESTIVAL
"The dream, my seer, which I beheld last night Within our tent, may bring to us delight.
I saw a mountain summit flash with fire, That like a royal robe or G.o.d"s attire Illumined all its sides. The omen might Some joy us bring, for it was shining bright."
And thus the Sar revealed to him his dream.
Heabani said, "My friend, though it did seem Propitious, yet, deceptive was it all, And came in memory of Elam"s fall.
The mountain burning was Khumbaba"s halls We fired, when all his soldiers from the walls Had fled;--the _ni-takh-garri_,[1]--on that morn, Of such deceptive dreams, I would thee warn!"
Some twenty _kaspu_ they have pa.s.sed this day, At thirty _kaspu_ they dismount to pray And raise an altar, Samas to beseech That they their journey"s end may safely reach.
The tent now raised, their evening meal prepare Beneath the forest in the open air; And Izdubar brought from the tent the dream He dreamed the festal night when Ishtar came To him;--he reads it from a written scroll: "Upon my sight a vision thus did fall: I saw two men that night beside a G.o.d; One man a turban wore, and fearless trod.
The G.o.d reached forth his hand and struck him down Like mountains hurled on fields of corn, thus p.r.o.ne He lay; and Izdubar then saw the G.o.d Was Anatu,[2] who struck him to the sod.
The troubler of all men, Samu"s fierce queen, Thus struck the turbaned man upon the plain.
He ceased his struggling, to his friend thus said: "My friend, thou askest not why I am laid Here naked, nor my low condition heed.
Accursed thus I lie upon the mead; The G.o.d has crushed me, burned my limbs with fire."
"The vision from mine eyes did then expire.
A third dream came to me, which I yet fear, The first beyond my sight doth disappear.
A fire-G.o.d thundering o"er the earth doth ride; The door of darkness burning flew aside; Like a fierce stream of lightning, blazing fire, Beside me roared the G.o.d with fury dire, And hurled wide death on earth on every side; And quickly from my sight it thus did glide, And in its track I saw a palm-tree green Upon a waste, naught else by me was seen."
Heabani pondering, thus explained the dream: "My friend, the G.o.d was Samas, who doth gleam With his bright glory, power, our G.o.d and Lord, Our great Creator King, whose thunders roared By thee, as through yon sky he takes his way; For his great favor we should ever pray.
The man thou sawest lying on the plain Was thee, O King,--to fight such power is vain.
Thus Anatu will strike thee with disease, Unless thou soon her anger shalt appease; And if thou warrest with such foes divine, The fires of death shall o"er thy kingdom shine.
The palm-tree green upon the desert left Doth show that we of hope are not bereft; The G.o.ds for us their snares have surely weft,[3]
One shall be taken, and the other left."
[Footnote 1: "Ni-takh-garri," "the helpers," or soldiers of Khumbaba.]
[Footnote 2: "Anatu," the consort of Anu.]
[Footnote 3: "Weft," weaved.]
COLUMN II
CONTEST WITH THE DRAGONS IN THE MOUNTAINS--THE SEER IS MORTALLY WOUNDED-- HIS CALM VIEW OF THE HEREAFTER
[1]"O Mam-mitu, thou G.o.d of fate and death!
Thou spirit of fierce hate and parting breath, Thou banisher of joy! O ghastly Law, That gathers countless forces in thy maw!