Lamentation Over the Destruction of Sumer and Ur (ca. 2000–1700 B.C.E.)
The “Lamentation Over the Destruction of Sumer and Ur,” created during the early second millennium B.C.E., was part of the long-standing Mesopotamian literary tradition of the “city lament,” epic poems that linked a city’s misfortune to the displeasure of the gods. Following the pattern typical of such works, it told the story of the gods An and Enil’s decree that the various gods of Sumer must abandon their cities, related the consequences of that decree for the city of Ur, and concluded with the intervention by the god Nanna on his city’s behalf. The passages from the “Lamentatio” included here describe Ur’s devastation by Enil, Enil’s rejection of Nanna’s initial plea to spare his city, and Enil’s change of heart in response to Nanna’s second appeal. As you read the passages, consider what they tell us about the relationship of the Mesopotamian gods to each other, to their cities, and to the people who worshipped them.
[The devastation of Ur.]
After Ur has stood [as] a great ox (noble on its own) —
the seedling city of lordship and kingship built on virgin soil —
to quickly subdue it [with] a rope like an ox, to bring its neck to the ground:
An, Enlil, Enki, and Ninmah determined its fate.
Who [can] overturn its fate, something that cannot be altered?
Who [can] oppose the pronouncement of An and Enlil?
An terrified Sumer in its dwelling place; the people were afraid.
Enlil brought a bitter storm; silence was established in the city.
Nintu blocked off the womb of the land.
Enki stopped up the water in the Tigris and Euphrates.
Utu removed the pronouncements of righteousness and just rulings.
Inanna granted battle and strife to a rebellious land.
Ningirsu poured Sumer to the dogs like milk.
Rebellion fell upon the land, something which no one [had] known.
It was something which had not been seen, something unspeakable, something that could not be grasped.
All the lands were confounded in their fear.
The gods of the city turned away; the shepherd fell away.
The population breathed in fear.
The storm immobilized them; daylight would not return for them.
With no daylight returning form them to their dwelling,
this is what Enlil, the shepherd of the black-headed ones,1 did:
[The devastation of Ur continued.]
In Ur no one went for food, no one went for water.
Its people wandered[?] like water poured into a well.
Having no strength, they do not [even] travel.
Enlil installed a pestilent famine in the city.
He installed a city destroyer and a temple destroyer in the city.
He installed something no weapon could withstand in the city.
He installed impropriety and shiftiness in the city.
In Ur, like a single planted reed, he was establishing fear.
Its people, like fish seized with the hand, gasped for breath.
[People] small and great were spread about; no one [could] rise.
At the “royal station,2” which was atop the portico, there was no food.
The king, who [usually] ate fine food, [could] take only a morsel.
As the day grew dark . . . they knew hunger.
There was no beer in the brewery, there was no malt.
There was no food for him in his palace; it was unsuitable.
No grain filled his magnificent storehouse; he [could] not bear his life.
From the large granary to the small granary of Nanna there was no grain. . . .
The boat of the first fruits did not bring first fruits to the father who begat him [Nanna].
Its food offerings could not enter for Enlil [in] Nippur.
[Enil rejects Nanna’s appeal.]
“There is mourning in the midst of the haunted city. Reeds of tears are growing there. . . .
In its midst [the people] pass the day in lament.
O my son, noble one . . . Why are you in tears?
O Nanna, noble one . . . Why are you in tears?
There is no revoking the verdict, the command of the assembly.
The pronouncement of An and Enlil knows no overturning.
Ur was indeed given kingship, but it was not given an everlasting reign.
From [the time] the land was established ages ago until the people were multiplied,
who has seen a reign of kingship that has emerged for preeminence?
Its kingship, its reign, was long [but] grew tired.
My Nanna, do not grow tired [yourself], [but] leave your city!”
[Enil relents and Ur is restored.]
“My son, the city that was [indeed] built for you in prosperity and joy is your reign.
The destroyed city, the great wall, the walls with leveled ramparts . . . all these were aside from the reign.
That which was arranged for you there, a reign of dark days . . . was created[?] for you.
Take a seat in your Etemennigur,3 righteously built!
Let Ur be [re]built in joy; let the people lie down before you!
Let it have substance in its foundation! Let Ashnan dwell there with it!
Let there be joy in its branches! Let Utu rejoice there!
Let an abundance of grain overflow its table!
Let Ur, the city [for which] An decreed fate, be restored for you!”
Enlil, proclaiming his blessing, stretched his neck to the heavens:
Let the land be organized [from] south [to] north for Nanna!
For Suen, let the road of the land be set in order!
Like a cloud, like one hugging the earth, they will lay hands on him!
By the order of An and Enlil, let them set a righteous hand on him.”
From Mark W. Chavalas, ed., Historical Sources in Translation: The Ancient Near East (Malden, Mass.: Blackwell Publishing, 2006), pp. 69–71.