Embracing him he leads him in a room,
Where many a curious graven tablet, tome,
And scrolls of quaint and old forgotten lore
Have slept within for centuries of yore.
The tablets high are heaped, the alcoves full,
Where truth at last has found a welcome goal.
In wisdom’s room, the sage his guest has led,
And seats him till the banquet high is spread;
Of Izdubar he learns his journeys great,
How he for aid has left his throne of state.
The maid now comes, him welcomes to the hall
Of banquets, where are viands liberal,
And fruits, immortal bread, celestial wines
Of vintage old; and when the hero dines,
They lead him to his private chamber room
That overlooks the wondrous garden’s bloom
Across the plain and jasper sea divine,
To Heaven’s mountains rising sapphirine.
Four beauteous streams of liquid silver lead
Across the plain; the shining sea they feed;
The King reclines upon his couch at rest,
With dreams of happiness alone is blest.
[Footnote 1: “Mua,” the waters of the dawn, the daughter of Khasisadra.]
THE KING IS CURED BY THE INCANTATIONS OF KHASISADRA
AND HE BECOMES
When Izdubar awakes, they lead the way
To the bright fount beside the jasper sea.
The seer, with Mua and Ur-Hea, stands
Beside the King, who holily lifts his hands
Above an altar where the glowing rays
Of sacred flames are curling; thus he prays:
“Ye glorious stars that shine on high,
Remember me! Oh, hear my cry,
Su-ku-nu, bright Star of the West!
Dil-gan, my patron star, oh, shine!
O Mar-bu-du, whose rays invest
Dear Nipur with thy light divine,
The flames that shines, upon the Waste!
O Papsukul, thou Star of Hope,
Sweet god of bliss, to me, oh, haste,
Before I faint and lifeless drop!
O Adar, Star of Ninazu,
Be kind! O Ra-di-tar-tu-khu.
Sweet U-tu-ca-ga-bu, dear Star
With thy pure face that shines afar!
“Oh, pardon me! each glorious Star!
Za-ma-ma, hear me! O Za-ma-ma!
Ca-ca-ma u Ca-ca-ma."
“Remember him! O dear Za-ma-ma! Ca-ca-ma u Ca-ca-ma.”
As Izdubar doth end his holy prayer
He kneels, and they now bear his body where
A snowy couch doth rest beneath a shrine
That stands near by the glowing fount divine,
And Khasisadra lifts his holy hands,
His incantation chants, and o’er him stands.
“O Bel, Lord of An-nu-na-ci,
O Nina, Hea’s daughter! Zi!
This Incantation aid,
Remember us, Remember!
“Ye tempests of High Heaven, be still!
Ye raging lightnings, oh, be calm!
From this brave man his strength is gone,
Before thee see him lying ill!
Oh, fill with strength his feeble frame,
O Ishtar, shine from thy bright throne!
From him thine anger turn away,
Come from thy glowing mountains, come!
From paths untrod by man, oh, haste!
And bid this man arise this day.
With strength divine as Heaven’s dome,
His form make pure and bright and chaste!
The evil curse, oh, drive away!