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[Short Story] The Shepherd and the Goddess Part 6

Translation of a Sumerian tablet:

 

1-6. “Maiden, the cattle-pen ……; maiden Inana, the sheepfold ……. …… bending in the furrows. Inana, let me stroll with you; …… the emmer ……. Young lady, let me …….”

7-11. “I am a woman and I won’t do that, I won’t! I am a star ……, and I won’t! I won’t be the wife of a shepherd!” Her brother, the warrior youth Utu, said to holy Inana:

12-19. “My sister, let the shepherd marry you! Maiden Inana, why are you unwilling? {His butter is good, his milk is good} {(2 mss. have instead:) He of good butter, he of good milk} — all the work of the shepherd’s hands is splendid. Inana, let Dumuzid marry you. You who wear jewellery, who wear šuba jewels, why are you unwilling? {(1 ms. adds 2 lines:) His butter is good, his milk is good — all the work of the shepherd’s hands is splendid.} He will eat his good butter with you. Protector of the king, why are you unwilling?”

20-34. “The shepherd shall not marry me! He shall not make me carry his garments of new wool. His brand new wool will not influence me. Let the farmer marry me, the maiden. With the farmer who grows colourful flax, with the farmer who grows dappled grain …….”
1 line fragmentary
approx. 7 lines missing
“The shepherd shall not marry me!”

35-39. These words ……. ……the farmer to the shepherd. My king ……, the shepherd, Dumuzid ……. …… to say ……:

40-54. “In what is the farmer superior to me, the farmer to me, the farmer to me? Enkimdu, the man of the dykes and canals — in what is that farmer superior to me? Let him give me his black garment, and I will give the farmer my black ewe for it. Let him give me his white garment, and I will give the farmer my white ewe for it. Let him pour me his best beer, and I will pour the farmer my yellow milk for it. Let him pour me his fine beer, and I will pour the farmer my soured (?) milk for it. Let him pour me his brewed beer, and I will pour the farmer my whipped milk for it. Let him pour me his beer shandy, and I will pour the farmer my …… milk for it.”

55-64. “Let him give me his best filtered beer, and I will give the farmer my curds (?). Let him give me his best bread, and I will give the farmer my …… milk for it. Let him give me his little beans, and I will give the farmer my small cheeses for them. {(1 ms. adds 2 lines:) Let him give me his large beans, and I will give the farmer my big cheeses for them.} After letting him eat and letting him drink, I will even leave extra butter for him, and I will leave extra milk for him. In what is the farmer superior to me?”

65-73. He was cheerful, he was cheerful, at the edge of the riverbank, he was cheerful. On the riverbank, the shepherd on the riverbank, now the shepherd was even pasturing the sheep on the riverbank. The farmer approached the shepherd there, the shepherd pasturing the sheep on the riverbank; the farmer Enkimdu approached him there. Dumuzid …… the farmer, the king of dyke and canal. From the plain where he was, the shepherd from the plain where he was provoked a quarrel with him; the shepherd Dumuzid from the plain where he was provoked a quarrel with him.

74-79. “Why should I compete against you, shepherd, I against you, shepherd, I against you? Let your sheep eat the grass of the riverbank, let your sheep graze on my stubble. Let them eat grain in the jewelled (?) fields of Unug, let your kids and lambs drink water from my Surungal canal.”

80-83. “As for me, I am a shepherd: when I am married, farmer, you are going to be counted as my friend. Farmer Enkimdu, you are going to be counted as my friend, farmer, as my friend.”

84-87. “I will bring you wheat, and I will bring you beans; I will bring you two-row barley from the threshing-floor. And you, maiden, I will bring you whatever you please, maiden Inana, …… barley or …… beans.”

88-89. The dispute between the shepherd and the farmer: maiden Inana, your praise is sweet.

90. A balbale.

[Short Story] The Shepherd and the Goddess Part 5: Divine Matchmaking

[Short Story] The Shepherd and the Goddess Part 4: An Ignorant Fool

Dumu was relieved to find that the flock of Utu were regular cows… more or less. They were much bigger than his other cattle and their milk held an aftertaste of cinnamon, but they behaved just like any other animal. Days, weeks and then years went by with only his flock for company. Dumu didn’t care. He missed his sisters, but they were better off living in comfort in Midu’s cities, with his fineries and delicacies, than they were living with him in the pastures. Dumu learnt the song of the Tree as he grazed his flock, playing for it, learning its voice so well that he began to speak with its voice. Flowers bloomed when he played his pipe, animals danced and frolicked, the eight winds sang and the pastures became enraptured in a permanent spring, forgetting the cold bitterness of winter and the sultry apathy of summer. The pastures turned into a grove that rivalled Dilmun. The black headed people, whose cities had spread to the borders of the grove, marvelled at the power of the place. One needed merely to hear the sound of Dumu’s pipes to be healed of all pestilence. One needed merely to feel the wind of the grove to be rid of all weariness. One needed merely to eat the flesh of one of the boars of the grove to be given sustenance for years. One needed merely to drink of the streams of the grove to see the gates of An. They spied on Dumu through their far glasses, but were too fearful of the wild shepherd, clothed in his furs, to ever approach him.

“So this is the arrogant shepherd you wanted to punish,” Utu laughed, as he and his sister approached the grove in their barge. “He has worked wonders here, don’t you think.”

Inanna snorted, “He’s just an earth born. A wild man.”

Utu shook his head, the glint of humour in his eyes growing ever deeper. The black headed people in the cities below gazed up at the sun in fear as it responded to Utu’s mood. “That earth born is Enki and Ninsun’s dearest child. I see them watching over him constantly.”

“All the more reason for me to punish him,” Inanna said. “My quarrel with Enki grows worse by the day.”
“End that quarrel quickly. It will not go well for you.”

They landed the barge near the Tree, and greeted Dumu, one with a smile the other with a scowl.

“You compared my sister to one of my cows,” Utu said. “Enki calls you the Child of Knowledge, and the Lady Inanna calls you a fool. I wonder which one is right.”

“They both are,” Dumu answered. “Knowledge is curtailed, after all, unless the seeker constantly acknowledges his ignorance. I am a fool who does not wish to be a fool. A child who constantly devours but cannot grow.” Dumu turned towards Inanna, “Why are you angry, dear lady?”

“We gave you leave to use our pastures, and to be take nourishment from the Tree of Life,” Inanna answered, her eyes closing to slits. “You repaid my brother’s kindness by looking after his cattle, but you have yet to do me any service. I have waited for you on the Holy Mountain for an entire year, and yet you did not come.”

“I could not leave my flock,” Dumu said, crestfallen. “They would be lost without me.” He could sense his flock getting agitated and took out his pipe to calm them down. |

“The arrogance of this one,” Inanna snapped. “He now seeks to lull me to tranquillity with his incantations.”
“Not so,” Dumu said between breaths. “My flock have just recovered from a fever and grow agitated easily. I do not want them to fall ill again. I apologize for the interruption.”
“But…” Utu chuckled, “I think he would use his music on you if he thought it would work. Don’t bother him, sister. Let us listen to his song for a while. It has been a long time since I heard anything this calming.”
Inanna surprisingly acquiesced. The two siblings sat, listening in rapt attention as Dumu ministered to his flock. Utu left at dusk, but Inanna stayed behind, too curious about this strange wild earth-born shepherd to leave. Time seemed to stand still when she was with him. Who would have thought that sheep and cattle could be so interesting. It was many years later that she left the grove.

xxxxxxxxxxx

Once she returned to the Holy City, trouble began. She despised Enki’s controlling ways. Who was he to relegate An and Nanna to obscurity, taking their mes for himself. The mes belonged to them all. Was she not one of the Seven, and moreover the daughter of Nanna? Didn’t she have as much right as he did in using the mes of the First Land? The quarrel between Enki and Inanna soon grew into an all out battle. The cities of the black headed people were caught in the crossfire. Enki controlled the mes but Inanna was nothing if not resourceful. Their fight nearly destroyed the earth, until Utu came up with a plan to put a stop to their destruction.
“You already love the shepherd,” he said to Inanna. “Marry him, and learn to call Enki your father.”

[Short Story] the Shepherd and the Goddess Part Six (V2) The Courting of Inanna and Dimuzi

[Short Story] The Shepherd and the Goddess Part 4: An Ignorant Fool

[Short Story] The Shepherd and the Goddess Part 3: A Jealous Brother

 

Image courtesy: https://ishraniel.deviantart.com/art/Inanna-Sumerian-goddess-of-love-Oil-pastel-686251642

 

In the centre of Utu’s pasture stood a tall tree. It was more than just a tree, thought Dumu, as he gazed at it in wonder. It was a composite of all life. Its sap oozed with life energy, its leaves were a myriad of shapes, colours and materials, some like wafers of rubies with veins of emerald, some like diamonds inlaid with purple and some the thick green that Dumu was used to seeing. Its bark pulsed with a golden light and it sang with a soft hum. Dumu could hear its song far clearer than any other tree in all the lands he had traversed. It was a slow song, and soothing to hear.

As Dumu walked closer to the tree he noticed the form of a woman sitting atop one of its branches, gazing absently at the sky. Could she be one of Utu’s cattle? The standards of the people of the flying mountain were different from those who walked the earth. Perhaps it would have been wise to have asked the Lord of the Sun the nature of his cattle before agreeing to mind them. This one looked like she could be trouble.
“Good Lady,” he called to her from beneath the tree, “come down or you might hurt yourself.” Dumu grimaced when she gave no response. Was she deaf perhaps? No, she was humming to the song of the Tree. “Good Lady,” he called to her again, “I have some bread and honey for you, if you’ll come down and join me for lunch.” He heard her give a sniff of disdain. Well, at least she’d heard him this time. That was good. Dumu took out his flute and began to play a song.
“What are you doing?” the Lady asked him, curiosity replacing her irritation as she peered down at him.
“When my flock are belligerent I often play them a song. It makes them more receptive to my words,” Dumu sang.
“Your flock?” the Lady jumped down the Tree, lightning flashing in her eyes. “You dare compare me to sheep and cows, you foolish shepherd?” Now that she was on the ground, Dumu could see that she was a head taller than he was.

“Utu asked me to mind his cattle,” Dumu said. He knew who she was now. He knew that he was mere seconds away from the final death. He had insulted one of the Seven. He had insulted one whose rage was a thing of legend. And yet he felt no fear. “You are the only being I found in his pasture. I realise now that I have made a mistake,” he bowed towards Inanna, “And I apologize.”
“I have smashed men’s heads open for less,” she said.

“I know.”

“You likened me to livestock.”

“I am sorry.”

“While trespassing in my sacred grove, you really dare!”

“I have Utu’s permission.”
“I ought to kill you.”
“But you won’t.”
“Why not?”

“Because you wish to laugh instead. Your lips are starting to twitch.”

Inanna couldn’t help smiling at his audacity, “You’re a brave fool at least, young shepherd. You have put me in a good mood today, and for that I’ll grant you mercy.”

She disappeared into the wind. Moments later, Dumu saw a barge rise from the earth and sail towards the heavens.

[Short Story] The Shepherd and the Goddess Part 5: Divine Matchmaking

[Short Story] The Shepherd and the Goddess Part 3: A Jealous Brother

[Short Story] The Shepherd and the Goddess Part 2: Pastoral vs Agrarian

When the time was right, Midu reaped the first harvest of his hard work. His canals and fields grew into cities so big that they almost rivalled the flying city of the gods. His surplus grain was turned into beer, mud tracks turned into stone roads filled with the people that were its life blood. Trade, commerce and culture boomed. The black headed people made Midu’s cities their home, giving him the due reverence he deserved. Artisans crafted crowns of gold set with lapis lazuli. Priestesses honoured him alongside the elder gods. He was not the first king of the land, for the black headed people did not yet hold within their minds the concept of royalty. The land of Aratta grew strong and prospered with its cities of stone, its winds of perfume and sounds of music, its fields of grain, its plantations of spice, its mountains of gold, its dockyards of ships that sailed across the earth. The gods showered it with patronage from atop their holy mountain… but all this still wasn’t enough for Midu. There was one person’s praise he wanted more than any others… well, two actually, but his father had never visited them since the day of their birth and Midu had given up any hope of ever meeting him.
“My brother,” he said to Dumu as they feasted in his hall, “you have seen for yourself the wonders I have wrought. I have tamed the earth and the sky. I have broken mountains and lulled the ocean to sleep with my voice. The black headed people sing my praise for the wonders I have wrought. Why have you not said a single word?”

Dumu shrugged as he took another sip from his straw, “What you have built here is wonderful indeed, brother. You are as great and powerful as our father. The black headed people are right to praise you, for you have helped them tremendously. I, on the other hand, cannot feel at home here trapped in stone, far from my pastures and groves. I cannot feel at home here, trapped in this tomb of artistry and culture that you have created. I cannot feel at home here, where the lowly are cast aside by the powerful. If this were my flock I’d give some of them a good whipping. I prefer my wild wild mead drunk from my wooden mug to this pale beer sipped with straws. I prefer my loin cloth to these rich tapestries that you force me to wear. I prefer my wooden flute to your silver lyres. I prefer the lights of the sky to the torches on the street. I prefer feeling the grass on my feet with the occasional pebble to the cold uniformity of these characterless roads. I prefer the sounds of my sheep and cattle to the sounds of the quarrels of the black headed people. We are too different, you and I. I do however, like your bread as I always have. Would you like some more cheese?”
“Your can shove your stinking cheese,” Midu roared, banishing his brother for life. “Come anywhere near my cities and I will gather all my power to end your existence.”
Dumu gathered his sheep and cattle and travelled west, to find new pastures far from his brother’s expanding cities. His music attracted more livestock to his flock the further he travelled. The clouds of the sky became enthralled by the shepherd’s sad song and began following him as well, weeping when he played a sad song, jumping around when he played a trill. Dragons grew tame at the sound of his flute, and river spirits sang in polyphony. The shepherd soon attracted the attention of Utu, the lord of the sun.
“You have my favour,” Utu said, after learning Dumu’s story. “Travel south east for two days and use my pastures there as you wish. You may add my cattle to your flock.”

[Short Story] The Shepherd and the Goddess Part 4: An Ignorant Fool

[Short Story] The Shepherd and the Goddess Part 2: Pastoral vs Agrarian

[Short Story] The Shepherd and the Goddess Part 1:The Story of Tammuz and Ishtar

Dumu and Midu may have been brothers but they were as different as night and day, blood and spirit, wisdom and sanctuary. Dumu enjoyed the light of the celestial spheres while Midu enjoyed the glint of father’s fire. Dumu preferred resting in groves while Midu preferred resting within rock. Dumu enjoyed the feel of the elements on his skin while Midu built stone walls. Dumu enjoyed the morning walk to the Great River while Midu built canals. Dumu played the songs of the winds with his pipe as he grazed his sheep and cattle while Midu played the songs of the earth with his hammer while he chiselled stone. Needless to say, the two did not always get along.

“You have it easy,” Midu would often complain. “All you do is lie on the grass and play your pipe. Your sheep and cows obey you without any effort on your part. I have to work all day, and sometimes all night, hammering the earth into submission with my blood, sweat and tears. It just isn’t fair.”

“My brother,” Dumu would say on the occasions Midu was not too tired to listen, “we both follow our hearts. I cannot do what you do, and you cannot do what I do. If we changed roles, it would give neither of us pleasure. Our souls are different, and so are our paths… but our destination is the same. Come, taste this cheese.”

[Short Story] The Shepherd and the Goddess Part 3: A Jealous Brother

 

[Short Story] The Shepherd and the Goddess Part 1:The Story of Tammuz and Ishtar

In those days, in those distant days,

Before all things necessary were manifest

In those nights, in those remote nights,

When the veil had just been drawn between sky and earth

In those years, in those happy years,

When An had taken the high heavens for himself

…

When Enki had slain the dragon of the Underworld

And Ereshkigal had been given dominion of Kur

When fearsome Abzu still held dominion on the earth

Before the temples of the Mother baked their first bread

Before mankind first tasted the fermented grape

…

There lived two brothers, the first of the younger gods

Earthborn: Dumu the Shepherd and Midu the Builder

 

[Short Story] The Shepherd and the Goddess Part 2: Pastoral vs Agrarian

Image: A modern illustration depicting Inanna-Ishtar’s descent into the Underworld taken from Lewis Spence’s Myths and Legends of Babylonia and Assyria (1916)

[Poem] The Spice Must Flow pt 3 (1300-1800 AD)

Constantinople falls to Turks

Spice trade monopolies they seize

Then Marco Polo travels east, writes books

And Vasco (de) Gama starts journeying the seas

Anchors at Calicut but awry breeze

Engulfs his trade deal; Cannons roar for war

Now France, Holland(e), Britain enter the squeeze

Addicted! Spice they now demand much more

Effects global! Napoleon, Conquistadore.

 

Damn iambs! I give up…

Image:  http://www.around-amsterdam.com/dutch-east-india-company.html

[Poem] The Spice must Flow, pt2 (circa 2000BC)

My second attempt at writing a Spenserean sonnet. I don’t think I succeeded with the meter and rhythm here either… Oh well! I guess I’ll have to write a part 3. 

 

“Sumerian beer for your Indian pepper

Beer for pepper, sixty shekels for ten”

Merchants sell their last stocks; tough endeavor!

Sesame oil, lapis lazuli, tin

Ivory, cotton, even carnelian

In short supply these days… Hundred year drought

Leaves bare northern plantations Meluhhan

Pepper keeps alive this ancient trade route

Great Meluhha, abandon your cities, flee South!

 

Note: shekel here refers to a measure of weight… One shekel= 9 grams