I roam the open country on long journeys. Enkidu my friend whom I love has turned to clay. I searched, went through all countries, Passed through and through difficult lands, And crossed to and fro all seas. My face never had enough of sweet sleep, My fibre was filled with grief. Mankind's fame is cut down like reeds in a reed-bed.
Nobody sees Death, Nobody sees the face of Death, Nobody hears the voice of Death.
Savage Death just cuts mankind down. But then brothers divide it upon inheritance. Tablet X, Column vi Source Myths from Mesopotamia edited and translated by Stephanie Dalley. Oxford University Press, Oxford, 1989. Copyright Stephanie Dalley 1989.