After taking a day to celebrate International Women’s Day, here is the last piece of the poem, Inanna and Ebih. In it, Inanna receives An’s answer and then reacts the only way Inanna knows how….I’m not going to spoil it, the conclusion is below!
Inanna and Ebih pt 3
An
king of the gods
answers her
Little One
my Little One
you ask for the mountain
you want the heart of it
he says this to her
you the Queen
you ask for Mount Ebih
you want the heart of it
he says this to her
Mount Ebih
you ask for it
you want the heart of it
he says this to her
the gods
standing in their place
bend with fear of Ebih
the Annuna
sitting in their holy place
tremble, stricken
their flesh prickles all over
a red-hot terror
paralyzes our whole country
fiery terror of the mountain Ebih
rages in the lands around us
the jagged peaks of Mount Ebih
cut the blue vault of sky
trees
fruit laden, full grown
stand luxuriant on its slopes
layers of thick leaves
on its great trees
darken the sky
lion pairs
stroll in the shade
of stretching arch of branches
grey-fleeced wild rams
wide-eyed stags
roam the hills without shepherds
wild bulls come and go
legs brushed by swaying grass
the crescent-horned ibex
mates in the mountain cypress
I am fear-struck
at their lavish brilliance
I will not go there with you
O maiden Inanna
I will not set my head with yours
against the fiery radiance of the mountain
An says this to her
INANNA! PORTENTOUS ONE!
HOLY! ILL-BODING!
FURY OVERTURNS HER HEART!
with screech of hinge
she flings wide the gate
of the house of battle
her hands pull the bolt lock
on its lapis lazuli door
bedlam unleashed
she sends down a raging battle
hurls a storm from her wide arms
to the ground below
thin sinew the woman strings
for her flawless arrows
and hurrican winds
swift-piercing, stinging
fly with Inanna’s fury
suck loosened earth into sweet air
dust chokes every blink and breath
broken bits and fiery chips
swirl in the dust dark air
my Queen batters the mountain
plants her heels hard
rubs dagger’s edge on a whet stone
grabs Ebih by the neck
as she would a sheaf of rushes
in ear-splitting waves
her shrill cries pierce
Ebih’s failing heart
with stones from its own slopes
she pelts she pounds
thud dub thud dub
storms of stones crack at its sides
damp and writhing snakes
tangled in branches
drop at her drear bidding
spitting deadly venom
and her tongue’s poison
hurls a green-wilting curse
over forest and fruit-bearing trees
she shows no mercy
to its green plant rows
a parching drought she blows
dust dry air in her pitiless wake
gusts over stems of verdant growth
not a moist drop stays
in the bent and withered grass
she strikes fires
flames cut the sky to the boundary stones
flames dance in the smoke stained air
spread at a glance from the queen’s glare
holy Inanna
fresh faced, fearless
vigor of a young man commanding
wrestles the mountain to its knees
stands the victor at its base
MOUNTAIN! she cries
EBIH!
because you puff yourself up
because you stand so high
dress up so beautiful
make yourself so green and luscious
put on a royal robe
stretch your hand straight to An
do not wipe your nose on th ground
do not flatten your lips in the dust
I HAVE KILLED YOU
I HAVE STRUCK YOUR HEART WITH SORROW
you thick-hided elephant
I will twist your trunk
you oversized bull
I will wrench your neck
grab your thick horns
throw you in the dust
stomp you with my hatred
grind my knees in your neck
till tears wet your face
sorry grips your heart
turn your back on me!
may the bleak bird of heartbreak
nest in your shadows
Inanna
fearson victor
speaks again
MOUNTAIN
father Enlil led me
placed the dreaded mace
in my strong right hand
in my left I swing an ax
mace and ax flung raging
cut like a great toothed harrow
V. Inanna Builds a Temple to Her Victory
stone upon stone
I build a temple
mark out my estate
stone upon stone
finish it in splendor
standing hard on bedrock
grand is the throne there
summon a kurgarra for holy office
bestow the sacred implements
hallowed mace and dagger
summon a gala, singer of lamentation
dispense the tools of office
kettle drum and hand drum
summon holy attendants
for ritual head-overturning
priest to become woman
priestess to become man
I build this splendid temple
who dared attack the mountain
who now stands victorious
a swollen spilling water
I have washed over the grasslands
a rushing risen water
I have overrun the rope fence
mountain
I have triumphed
Ebih
I have triumphed
eldest daughter of the Moon
that you destroyed Ebih
O maiden Inanna
be praised
and praise be to Nisaba
goddess of writing
And here I say that the moral of this story is to never, ever piss off Inanna!
Our Modern History 
Leave a Reply