Baal Cycle

[…]
Henna enough for seven girls,
scent of coriander and murex. Anat did close the gates of the mansion,
and she met the pages at the foot of the rock.
And behold! Anat fought in the vale,⁠a
battled between the two cities,
struck the people,
silenced the men of the sun-rise.⁠b
Heads were like balls beneath her,
palms above her like locusts,
palms of warriors like avenging grasshoppers.
She did stick the heads on her waist,
did bind the palms to her sash. She plunged her knees in the blood of the guards,
her skirts in the gore of the warriors.
With her shafts she drove forth the old men,
with her bowstring the townspeople.
Then behold! Anat proceeded to her house,
the goddess started for her palace;
but she was not sated with her fighting in the vale,
her battling between the two cities. She arranged chairs for the warriors,⁠c
she did arrange tables for the soldiers,
stools for the heroes.
Anat fought hard and looked,⁠d
she battled and surveyed the scene;
her liver swelled with laughter,⁠e
her heart was filled with joy, the liver of Anat with triumph,
as she plunged her knees in the blood of the guards,⁠f
her skirts in the gore of the warriors,
until she was sated with fighting in the house,
with battling between the tables. The blood of the guards was wiped from the house
and oil of a peace-offering was poured from a bowl.
The virgin Anat washed her hands,
the sister-in-law of peoples her fingers;
she washed her hands of the blood of the guards,
her fingers of the gore of the warriors.
She did put back chairs with chairs, tables with tables,
she put back stools with stools.
She scooped up water and washed herself,
dew of heaven and oil of earth, showers of the rider on the clouds,
dew that the heavens poured upon her,
showers that the stars did pour upon her.