Utnapishtim’s Words:
Mason vs. Mitchell
Feraco
Myth to Science Fiction
17 October 2011
Many years ago through loss I learned
that love is wrung from our innermost
heart until only the loved one is, and
we are not…
I think love kills the heart of flesh. It is
the only way to eternal life, which
should be unbearable if lived among
the dying flowers and the shrieking
farewells of the overstretched arms of
our spoiled hopes.
I think compassion is our God’s pure act
which burns forever…
 Mitchell, too, has a wonderful
depiction of Utnapishtim’s words.
Gilgamesh, why prolong your grief?
Have you ever paused
to compare your own blessed lot with a
fool’s?
You were made from the flesh of both
gods and humans;
the gods have lavished you with their
gifts
as though they were your father and
mothers.
From your birth they assigned you
a throne and told you,
“Rule over men!” To the fool they
gave
beer dregs instead of butter, stale
crusts
instead of bread that is fit for
gods,
rags instead of magnificent
garments,
instead of a wide fringed belt an
old rope,
and a frantic, senseless,
dissatisfied mind.
Can’t you see how fortunate you are?
You have worn yourself out through
ceaseless striving,
you have filled your muscles with pain
and anguish.
And what have you achieved but to
bring yourself
one day nearer to the end of your days?
At night the moon travels across the
sky,
the gods of heaven stay awake and
watch us,
unsleeping, undying. This is the way
the world is established, from ancient
times.
Yes: the gods took Enkidu’s life.
But man’s life is short, at any moment
it can be snapped, like a reed in a
canebrake.
The handsome young man, the lovely
young woman –
in their prime, death comes and drags
them away.
Though no one has seen death’s face or
heard
death’s voice, suddenly, savagely, death
destroys us, all of us, old or young.
And yet we build houses, make
contracts, brothers
divide their inheritance, conflicts
occur –
as though this human life lasted
forever.
The river rises, flows over its banks
and carries us all away, like
mayflies
floating downstream: they stare at
the sun,
then all at once there is nothing.
The sleeper and the dead, how alike
they are!
Yet the sleeper wakes up and opens
his eyes,
while no one returns from death.
And who
can know when the last of his days
will come?
When the gods assemble, they
decide your fate,
they establish both life and death
for you,
but the time of death they do not
reveal.