gilgamesh: a sonnet sequence
In the oldest poem, in The Epic of Gilgamesh, the warlord of the city Uruk, the part-man part-god Gilgamesh, has become a tyrant. His people suffer and cry to Heaven for justice and Anu, father of all, hears them and instructs Aruru, mother of creation, to:
“go and create
a double for Gilgamesh, his second self,
a man who equals his strength and courage,
a man who equals his stormy heart.
Create a new hero, let them balance each other
perfectly, so that Uruk has peace” (Mitchell, 75)
Soon rumors are heard of a wild man with hair down to his waist, some shadowy twin of Gilgamesh running with gazelles and lions, running naked through the forests. So a high temple priestess, Shamhat, the holy daughter of Ishtar, is sent out into the forest to tame the beast, to bring the god-beast Enkidu to face Gilgamesh.
Shamhat
I grow tired of their gossip. They condemn
me. What fool would listen to such stories
told by men? What did you think? None of them
have had to offer up their own bodies.
Men change so little. You hear “temple whore”
and grin. Enough. Already you displease.
The truth is this: when I walk through that door
I am not I. She claims me. Her furies
and her passions are mine. Just how many
of you are connected to the Divine?
Just how many of you even believe?
Not one? At least I have that dignity
to be her daughter. I know what is mine;
a faith deeper than what you can conceive.
Enkidu
I – and all the animals fled from me –
am – I became all because that woman
in her red corset kissed me. Suddenly
I was human. Now. I know. Now. Human.
She kissed me and all the animals fled.
She named me, gave me a name. She even
taught me love. I love – I loved her. I bled
for her. I did all this for her. Passion,
hunger, desire – all my first. Who can
say no? Now. I know. Now. Blissful. I was
hers. Bound to her. Blissful to hers. Spirit.
Hers. Soul. She was Shamhat. My love. I am
this. All because – I became all because
of that high priestess in her red corset.
Gilgamesh
O soul. O friend. O one true friend. I wait.
We will go into the cedar forest.
We will know both joy and grief. All my hate
shall calm like the sea after a tempest.
My one true friend. I wait for you. Hurry.
Your love waits. Deeper than any dim lust.
You said I was arrogant. I humbly
agree. And you said I was the crudest
of men. Yes. Let us go now. Hand in hand.
The world is ours. The gods love us. Dearly
I love you. How can love ever offend?
I will follow you down into the land
of death if I have to. Never leave me.
My soul. My dearest friend. My one true friend.
***
Work Cited:
Mitchell, Stephen. Gilgamesh. New York: Free Press. (2004)