Status Updates From The Epic of Gilgamesh

I’ve slept very little. This face you see of a carcass, unsweetened by sleep. These sinews that ache, that bite at each step… These cumbersome shoulders…

He stripped off his skins, held them aloft like a sail, put himself in the bow like a mast. 🤣

She wears a veil; Gilgamesh in lion skins, plods wearily toward her — mayhap the flesh of the gods on his body, but woe still flush in his heart.

Come now, ye elders of Uruk, give ear to me! O, men of Uruk, what you hear is my weeping, keen as the wailing of women! // The axe, it slips in my grip, my bow unstrung; the sword of my belt, the shield before me, my festival clothes, sash of my loins — a demon has fancied them, made off with them all.

Before the altar of Shamash they laid the offering, placing the heart on top. // They prayed, prostrate, then backed away, completing all obeisance. // And they sat down together, two brothers: this was work well done.

A butcher could not, on a carcass still free of flies, a cleaner cut effect.

Look. Put our heads together. Two men and a plan are strong as any three-banded cord. Try breaking that.

And even as she spoke Enkidu could see a plan, and it pleased him. He liked these magic dancing words; he would have a friend to swap them with.
Up, priestess. Take me to your Uruk, your temple gods, your bully Gilgamesh. Big and bad as he may be, I’ll stand up to him.

Who built the great wall around Uruk, and the temple for Anu, king of the gods, protector of our city; and for his daughter, too — Ishtar, goddess of love?