Babylonian and Assyrian Literature Part 20

COLUMN V

TAMMUZ IS RESTORED TO LIFE BY THE WATERS OF LIFE--HIS SONG OF LOVE

The nectared cup the queen placed to his lips, And o'er his heaving breast the nectar drips, And now his arms are folded round his queen, And her fond kisses he returns again; And see! they bring to him his harp of gold, And from its strings, sweet music as of old His skilful hands wake through the sounding domes; Oh, how his Song of Love wakes those dark rooms!

"My Queen of Love comes to my arms!

Her faithful eyes have sought for me, My Love comes to me with her charms; Let all the world now happy be!

My queen has come again!

Forever, dearest, let me rest Upon the bosom of my queen!

Thy lips of love are honeyed best; Come! let us fly to bowering green!

To our sweet bower again.

O Love on Earth! O Love in Heaven!

That dearest gift which G.o.ds have given, Through all my soul let it be driven, And make my heart its dearest haven, For Love returns the kiss!

Oh! let me pillow there within Thy breast, and, oh, so sweetly rest, My life anew shall there begin; On thy sweet charms, oh, let me feast!

Life knows no sweeter bliss.

Oh, let me feast upon thy lips, As honey-bird the nectar sips, And drink new rapture through my lips, As honey-bee its head thus drips In nectarine abyss!

O Love, sweet queen! my heart is thine!

My Life I clasp within mine arms!

My fondest charmer, queen divine!

My soul surrenders to thy charms, In bliss would fly away.

No dearer joy than this I want; If love is banished from that life There bodyless, my soul would pant, And pine away in hopeless grief, If love be fled away.

If Love should hide and fold her wings In bowers of yonder gleaming skies, Unmeaning then each bard oft sings Of bliss that lives on earth and dies,-- I want such love as this.

I want thy form, thy loving breast, Mine arms of love surrounding thee, And on thy bosom sweetly rest, Or else that world were dead to me.

No other life is bliss.

If it is thus, my queen, I go With joy to yonder blissful clime; But if not so, then let me flow To soil and streams through changing time, To me would be more bliss.

For then, in blooming flowerets, I Could earth adorn, my soul delight, And never thus on earth could die; For though I should be hid from sight, Would spring again with joy!

And sing as some sweet warbling bird, Or in the breezes wave as grain, As yellow sun-birds there have whirred On earth, could I thus live again, That beauteous world enjoy!

'Mid safflower-fields or waving cane, Or in the honeysuckles lie, In forms of life would breathe again, Enjoy Earth's sweetest revelry, And ever spring again!

Each life to me new joys would bring, In breast of beast or bird or flower, In each new form new joys would spring, And happy, ever, Love would soar!

Triumphant filled with joy!

In jujube or tamarisk Perhaps would come to life again, Or in the form of fawns would frisk 'Mid violets upon the plain; But I should live again!

And throb beneath the glistening dew, In bamboo tufts, or mango-trees, In lotus bloom, and spring anew, In rose-tree bud, or such as these On Earth return again!

And I should learn to love my mate, In beast or singing bird or flower, For kiss of love in hope could wait; Perhaps I then would come that hour, In form I have again!

And love you say, my queen, is there, Where I can breathe with life anew?

But is it so? My Love, beware!

For some things oft are false, some true, But I thee trust again!

We fly away! from gates away!

Oh, life of bliss! Oh, breath of balm!

With wings we tread the Silver Way, To trailing vines and feathery palm, To bower of love again."

COLUMN VI

ESCAPE OF TAMMUZ FROM HADES--HIS DEATH IN THE CLOUDS--FUNERAL PROCESSION OF THE G.o.dS--ISHTAR'S ELEGY OVER THE DEATH OF TAMMUZ--HIS REVIVAL IN HADES, WHERE HE IS CROWNED AS THE LORD OF HADES--ISHTAR'S RETURN BRINGS LIGHT AND LOVE BACK TO EARTH.

But see! they pa.s.s from those dark gates and walls, And fly upon the breeze from Hades' halls, Hark! hark! the sounding harp is stilled! it falls From Tammuz's hands! Oh, how its wailing calls To you bright _zi-ni_[1] flying through the skies, See! one sweet spirit of the wind swift flies And grasps the wailing harp before it ends Its wail of woe, and now beneath it bends, With silent pinions listening to its strings, Wild sobbing on the winds;--with wailing rings The conscious harp, and trembles in her hands.

A rush of pinions comes from myriad lands, With moanings sends afar the awful tale, And mourners brings with every whispering gale.

And see! the queen's companion fainting sinks!

She lays him on that cloud with fleecy brinks!

And oh! his life is ebbing fast away!

She wildly falls upon his breast, and gray Her face becomes with bitter agony.

She tearless kneels, wrapt in her misery And now upon his breast she lays her head, With tears that G.o.ds, alas! with men must shed; She turning, sobs to her sweet waiting maids, Who weeping o'er her stand with bended heads: "a.s.semble, oh, my maids, in mourning here, The G.o.ds! and spirits of the earth bring near!"

They come! they come! three hundred spirits high, The heavenly spirits come! the I-gi-gi!

From Heaven's streams and mouths and plains and vales, And G.o.ds by thousands on the wings of gales.

The spirits of the earth, An-un-na-ci, Now join around their sisters of the sky.

Hark! hear her weeping to the heavenly throng, Imploring them to chant their mournful song:

"With your gold lyres, the dirge, oh, sing with me!

And moan with me, with your sweet melody; With swelling notes, as zephyrs softly wail, And cry with me as sobbing of the gale.

O Earth! dear Earth! oh, wail with thy dead trees!

With sounds of mountain torrents, moaning seas!

And spirits of the lakes, and streams, and vales, And Zi-ku-ri of mountains' trackless trail, Join our bright legions with your queen! Oh, weep With your sad tears, dear spirits of the deep!

Let all the mournful sounds of earth be heard, The breeze hath carried stored from beast and bird; Join the sweet notes of doves for their lost love To the wild moans of hours,--wailing move; Let choirs of Heaven and of the earth then peal, All living beings my dread sorrow feel!

Oh, come with saddest, weirdest melody, Join earth and sky in one sweet threnody!"

Ten thousand times ten thousand now in line, In all the panoplies of G.o.ds divine; A million crowns are s.h.i.+ning in the light, A million sceptres, robes of purest white!

Ten thousand harps and lutes and golden lyres Are waiting now to start the Heavenly choirs.

And lo! a chariot from Heaven comes, While halves rise from yonder sapphire domes; A chariot incrusted with bright gems, A blaze of glory s.h.i.+nes from diadems.

See! in the car the queen o'er Tammuz bends, And nearer the procession slowly wends, Her regal diadem with tears is dimmed; And her bright form by sorrow is redeemed To sweeter, holier beauty in her woe; Her tears a halo form and brighter flow.

Caparisoned with pearls, ten milk-white steeds Are harnessed to her chariot that leads; On snow-white swans beside her ride her maids, They come! through yonder silver cloudy glades!

Behind her chariot ten sovereigns ride; Behind them comes all Heaven's lofty pride, On pale white steeds, the chargers of the skies.

The clouds of snowy pinions rustling rise!

But hark! what is that strain of melody That fills our souls with grandest euphony?