Enheduanna’s Song

A version in Scots of a Sumerian hymn to the goddess of love and war, attributed to the priestess Enheduanna of Ur (fl. 2255 BCE), the world’s earliest identifiable author. As well as praising the nurturing but also terrifying and vengeful goddess, daughter of the moon, the poem inveighs against the rebel King Lu-gal-an-ne, who has flung Enheduanna out of the goddess’s temple.

Leddy o aa the airts,       aye-bleezin licht,
Gracie and lowin,      luved by Heivin and Erd,
Gaird o the Heich Shrine,      wi yir lang braw robe,
Fain o the richt gowd circlet      o the priesthuid,
Wha’s haun has won      aa o the seivin airts,
My Leddy, gaird      o ivry unco airt!
Ye’ve gaithered the airts,      ye’ve held them in yir haun,
Ye’ve braided the airts,      smooricht thaim tae yir breist.

Draigon-lik      ye’ve pushionit the merse,
Yir thunnery rair      wedes aa the flooirs awa,
Fleet wattir      hurlygushin fae the muntain,
Foremaist Muin-Dochter,      Queen o Heivin an Erd.
Ootpoorin fluffed flames      doon aa ower the laund,
Graced wi the Heich God’s airts,       baist-muntit Leddy,
Ye gie deliverances      as the Heich God bids;
Ye awn grand rites –      and wha can ken whit’s yours?

O malafoosterer o launds,      scowe-weengit,
Enlil’s beluivit,      ye flichter ower the merse,
Meenister o the Heich God’s      strang decreets,
O Leddy, at your soun     the launds boo doon.
Whan mankind     passes unnerneath yir een,
Frichtit and tremmlin      at yir roilin bleeze,
Frae ye they get      the upcome they deserve:
Wi sangs o scronach      they brak doon and greit;
They trek tae ye       alang the peth o souchs.

At the hert o the fecht      aa are strick doon by ye,
Weenged woman, Leddy,      whittlin doon the laund,
Claithed in a chairgin stour      ye chairge aheid,
Lik a blatterin, bleesterin roil      ye rair and rair,
Dunnerin on for aye      wi’oot an en,
Wi aa the wicked wunds       ye snocher on –
Yir feet are fu o a grit fit      o the fykes,
Wi a hairp o souchs      ye lowse a coronach.

O Leddy, aa aroon      the michtie gods
Bawkie-lik flit afore ye      tae the clifts;
Tae feart tae gang aneath      yir frichtsome een,
They daurna gang afore       yir coontenance.
Wha can mak licht yir hert      whan it gaes gyte?
Yir gey ill-hertit hert      is past aa lichtin,
Leddy wha suiths the reins,      wha gleds the hert,
Leddy wha’s birse is up,      Muin’s auldest dochter!
Leddy wha bears the gree      for aye ower aa.

If a muntain disnae praise ye      its flooirs drap deid.
Its muckle gowl      ye hae dinged doon tae ess.
Bluid fluids its stricks,      its fowk hae nocht tae drink.
Unbid, it maks its airmies      yir ain slaves.
Unbid, for ye      it lowses aa its sodjers.
Unbid, for ye      aa its hail youths parawd.
A blowt maks mice feet      o the ceety’s dancin.
It herds its flooir o youth oot      as yir slaves.

Ower the ceety that’s nae deponed,      ‘The laund is yirs,’
That’s nae deponed,      ‘It belangs tae yir begetter,’
Ye’ve speakit yir halie biddin,      ye’ve flang it oot,
Ye’ve made its kye      aa cursit in its byres.
Its lass has nae luve-wurds noo      for her man.
At nicht they lie lik corps      in their ain bed.
Nae langer she shaws him      her inmaist traisures …
Ramstam wull baist,      great Dochter o the Muin,
Leddy abune,      wha cuid na-say ye wirship?

Ye o richt airts,      aamichtie queen o queens,
Soverane abune      yir mither’s halie wame,
Auld i the horn,      Leddy abune aa launds,
Fowks’ nouricer,      I’ve sang yir halie sang.
Goddess, fit for aa airts,      it’s blythe tae hymn ye,
Kind, bricht, guid woman,      aa yir airts I’ve sang!

I, Enheduanna,      heich priestess,
Had gane in ben my sacred shrine      for ye,
Cairryin the halie skep,      I sang the sang,
But noo, flang oot,      I can nae langer bide
Wi ye: at peip o’ day      my licht gangs daurk,
Noo peip o day means shaddaes,      mirk and roil.
My hinnied mou is tint,      aa’s tapsalteerie,
My brawest pairts      are noo aa turned tae stour.

Whit’s he tae me, O Muin,      this rebel King
Wha caas hissel King Lu-gal-an-ne-mundu?
Cry tae the Heich God,      ‘Heich God, let me gae!’

Cry tae the Heich God, ‘Noo!’      and God will lowse me.
This woman wull win abune      Lu-gal-an-ne’s manheid.
Muntain and fleet      are lyin at her feet.
Yon woman, heich as he,      will mak the ceety
Gie him up. She tae      will dill her tirr.
Sae noo let me,      Enheduanna, pray
Tae her wi tears like wine,      tae the Muin’s Dochter,
The halie yin,      let me cry ‘Hail’ tae her!

I cannae slock      the will o Ashimbabbar.
Lu-gal-an-ne has befyled      the Heich God’s rites.
Lu-gal-an-ne’s snatched      the Heich God’s shrine.
Lu-gal-an-ne disnae ken      whit’s fit for gods.
The shrine o bricht      aye-bidin luveliness
Is aa defylit noo      and brocht tae dirt.
Moon’s Dochter, halie wull baist,      ding him doon,
Yon Lu-gal-an-ne,      mairriage-messer, swick.

In the halie grainery’s hert      whit am I? I?
Uruk rebels agin yir Muin      – nae way!
Uruk maun be dinged doon      by the Heich God!
May it be jeedged,      let Enlil jeedge it noo!
May its cryin bairns      nae be soothered by their mithers!
O Leddy, the hairp o murnin’s      in the dirt.
Yir bait o murnin’s steekit      on furrin strands.
Noo at my halie sang      they’re clair tae die.

Yet for masel, ma Muin      is deef tae me.
Ma Muin’s forleet me here      tae crockaneetion.
Ashimbabbar’s      nae mintit ma decree.
Gin he had, I widnae care,      I widnae care.
I wha aince ran his shrine      he’s flang ootby
Tae flit oot throuch his winnock      lik a swalla,
Tae traipse throuch muntain brammles.      Ma life’s dune.
He snapped awa      ma heich priestess’s croon.
He gied me dirk and swurd,      seyin, ‘Yon’s yir lot.’

Maist praicious Leddy,      luved by the Heich God,
Yir hert is grand,      O ease yir hert towart me,
Beluvit bride      o yon Ushumgalanna,
Ye bear the gree as queen      o Heivin’s launds.
The ither gods have      cruiked ther hochs tae ye.
Frae howdiein      ye aye were the ‘wee’ queen,
And noo ye’re soverane      owre the muckle gods
Wha kiss the mool      in reverence tae ye.
But ma decree’s nae clair –      I fear the warst.
I pray nae langer      at the auld shrine’s sait.
Nae langer noo I kythe      halie decreets,
Tho I am still the Muin’s      bricht heich priestess,
O queen luved by the Heich God,      peetie me!

Yon Lu-gal-an-ne      hasnae ivver sang
The Muin’s great sang,      he hasnae ivver sang
The ‘Aa tak tent!’ the ‘Herk!’      the ‘Aa is yours!’
That ye are heich as Heivin      lat aa tak tent!
That ye are braid as Erd      lat aa tak tent!
That ye blast rebel launds      lat aa tak tent!
That ye rair at the laund      lat aa tak tent!
That ye ding doon faes’ heids      lat aa tak tent!
That yer gams devoor faes’ banes      lat aa tak tent!
That yer glent maks aa fair fleggit      lat aa tak tent!
That ye heeze yer frichtsome glisk      lat aa tak tent!
That yer glent is aye fire-flaucht      lat aa tak tent!
That ye ill-will yon ill-daers      lat aa tak tent!
That fur aye ye bear the gree      lat aa tak tent!
Yon yin hasnae sang      the Muin’s great sang
That maks ye, O my Leddy,      soverane.

The halie fire is sperkit,      the bride-chaumer’s
Clair for ye noo,      O ease, O ease yir hert
Wi ‘This’ll dae! Eneuch!’      I hae gied birth,
O Leddy on heich,      tae this, yir halie sang,
This sang I sang tae ye      at daurk midnicht –
May the singer sing the sang      agane at nuin!
Owre the heid o yir grippit spouse,      yir grippit bairn,
Yir birse is up the mair,      yir hert uneasit.

The forehand leddy,      gaird o the heich throne,
Has accepit aa her offerins      and the hert
O the Muin’s Dochter      is agane restorit.
The day was cannie for her,      claithed in licht,
Lik the licht o the risin Muin,      sae brawly cled!
Whan the Muin kythit,      clair for aa tae ken,
Aa blessit then      the Muin’s Dochter’s great mither,
And aa at Heeivin’s gate      stuid cryin, ‘AA HAIL!’

Sae for her sang      the priestess was restorit,
Aa praise tae her      wha hes dinged doon the launds,
And hauds the airts      as gifts frae the Heich God,
Leddy cled in aa brawness,      the Muin’s Dochter.