1 He has abandoned his cattle-pen, his sheepfold—to the wind ... 2 The wild bull has abandoned his cattle pen, his sheepfold—to the wind ... 3 The lord of all lands has abandoned it, his sheepfold—to the wind ... 4 Enlil has abandoned the shrine in Nippur, his sheepfold—to the wind ... 5 His spouse, Ninlil, has abandoned it, her sheepfold—to the wind ... 6 Ninlil has abandoned the house Kiur, her sheepfold—to the wind ... 7 The queen of Keš has abandoned it, her sheepfold—to the wind ... 8 Ninmah has abandoned the house in Keš, her sheepfold—to the wind ... 9 She of Isin has abandoned it, her sheepfold—to the wind ... 10 Ninisina has abandoned the shrine Egalmah, her sheepfold—to the wind ... 11 The queen of Uruk land has abandoned it, her sheepfold—to the wind ... 12 Inanna has abandoned the house in Uruk, her sheepfold—to the wind ... 13 Nanna has abandoned Ur, his sheepfold—to the wind ... 14 Suen has abandoned Ekišnuĝal, his sheepfold—to the wind ... 15 His spouse, Ningal, has abandoned it, her sheepfold—to the wind ... 16 Ningal has abandoned her Agrunkug, her sheepfold—to the wind ... 17 The wild bull of Eridu has abandoned it, his sheepfold—to the wind ... 18 Enki has abandoned the house in Eridu, his sheepfold—to the wind ... 19 Ninašte has abandoned the house in Larak, her sheepfold—to the wind ... 20 Šara has abandoned Emah, his sheepfold—to the wind ... 21 Usahara has abandoned the house in Umma, her sheepfold—to the wind ... 22 Baba has abandoned Urukug, her sheepfold—to the wind ... 23 She has abandoned the Eduga, her chamber, her sheepfold—to the wind ... 24 Her mother, Ababa, has abandoned it, her sheepfold—to the wind ... 25 Ababa has abandoned Maguena, her sheepfold—to the wind ... 26 The lamma of the temple has abandoned it, her sheepfold—to the wind ... 27 The lamma of the Etarsirsir has abandoned it, her sheepfold—to the wind ... 28 The mother of Lagaš has abandoned it, her sheepfold—to the wind ... 29 Ĝatumdug has abandoned the house in Lagaš, her sheepfold—to the wind ... 30 She of Nina has abandoned it, her sheepfold—to the wind ... 31 The great lady has abandoned the house in Sirara, her sheepfold—to the wind ... 32 She of Kinirša has abandoned it, her sheepfold—to the wind ... 33 Dumuziabzu has abandoned the house in Kinirša, her sheepfold—to the wind ... 34 She of Guaba has abandoned it, her sheepfold—to the wind ... 35 Ninmarki has abandoned the shrine in Guaba, her sheepfold—to the wind ... 36 The first kirugu 37 His sheepfold was delivered to the wind, he is grievously groaning. 38 O cow, your lowing no longer sounds in the cattle pen, the cattle pen no longer brings joy to the prince! 39 Its ĝišgiĝal. 40 O city, the wailing is bitter, the wailing raised by you! 41 Your wailing is bitter, city, the wailing raised by you! 42 His faithful, destroyed city—the wailing for it is bitter! 43 His destroyed Ur—the wailing for it is bitter! 44 Your wailing is bitter, city, the wailing raised by you! 45 His destroyed Ur—the wailing for it is bitter! 46 Your wailing is bitter! Your lady, the mourner, how long will she be grieving? 47 Your wailing is bitter! Nanna, the mourner, how long will he be grieving? 48 O brickwork of Ur, the wailing is bitter, the wailing raised by you! 49 O Ekišnuĝal, the wailing is bitter, the wailing raised by you! 50 O shrine, Agrunkug, the wailing is bitter, the wailing raised by you! 51 O Kiur, great place, the wailing is bitter, the wailing raised by you! 52 O shrine, Nippur, O city of Nippur, the wailing is bitter, the wailing raised by you! 53 O brickwork of Ekur, the wailing is bitter, the wailing raised by you! 54 O Ĝaĝiššua, the wailing is bitter, the wailing raised by you! 55 O Ubšukkina, the wailing is bitter, the wailing raised by you! 56 O brickwork of Urukug, the wailing is bitter, the wailing raised by you! 57 O Etarsirsir, the wailing is bitter, the wailing raised by you! 58 O Maguena, the wailing is bitter, the wailing raised by you! 59 O brickwork of Isin, the wailing is bitter, the wailing raised by you! 60 O shrine, Egalmah, the wailing is bitter, the wailing raised by you! 61 O brickwork of Uruk land, the wailing is bitter, the wailing raised by you! 62 O brickwork of Eridu, the wailing is bitter, the wailing raised by you! 63 Your wailing is bitter! Your lady, the mourner, how long will she be grieving? 64 Your wailing is bitter! Nanna, the mourner, how long will he be grieving? 65 O city, though your name yet is, you are destroyed! 66 O city, though your walls rise high, your land has perished ... 67 O my city, as from an innocent ewe, your lamb has been cut off from you! 68 O Ur, as from an innocent goat, your kid has perished from you! 69 O city, your rituals have been alienated from you, 70 Your rites have been changed into alien rites! 71 Your wailing is bitter! Your lady, the mourner, how long will she be grieving? 72 Your wailing is bitter! Nanna, the mourner, how long will he be grieving? 73 The second kirugu 74 His faithful, destroyed city—the wailing for it is bitter! 75 His destroyed Ur—the wailing for it is bitter! 76 Its ĝišgiĝal. 77 Because of the lady of the devastated house, her city was given over to tears, 78 Together with Nanna, whose land has perished from him, 79 Ur burns in wailing. 80 The faithful woman, the lady, in order to grieve for her city, 81 Ningal, in order not to rest on account of her land, 82 Unto him, for the sake of her city she approached, bitterly she weeps. 83 For the sake of my lady’s house she approached him, bitterly she weeps. 84 For the sake of her devastated city she approached him, bitterly she weeps. 85 For the sake of her devastated house she approached him, their bitter wailing she sets before him. 86 The woman, her voice accompanied by the lyre of mourning with its alĝar, 87 Softly intones a dirge for the silent house, all alone: 88 “The storm that came to be—its sorrow hangs heavy on me. 89 Grieving concerning the doom of the storm, 90 As for me, the woman, the storm that came to be, 91 The storm that came to be—its sorrow hangs heavy on me. 92 In the “storm-day,” the bitter “storm-day” that came to be for me, 93 Even if I moaned at that “storm-day,” 94 The violence of the “storm-day” I could not escape! 95 Before time, I could not see a good day for my reign, a good day for my reign. 96 At the “storm-night”—when the bitter wails came to be for me— 97 Even if I moaned at that “storm-night,” 98 The violence of the “storm-night” I could not escape. 99 The awesomeness of that storm, destructive as a flood, hangs heavy on me! 100 Because of it, in my bedchamber at night, in my bedchamber at night, there is no silence for me, 101 And before time, the quiet of my bedchamber, the quiet of my bedchamber, was also not allowed to me. 102 Even if—because there was bitterness in my land— 103 I trudged the earth like a cow after its calf, 104 Nowise could I bring my land back to myself. 105 Even if—because there was bitter distress in my city— 106 I fluttered my wings like a bird of heaven, 107 Even if I could fly to my city, 108 Also then would my city have been destroyed on its site, 109 Also then would Ur have perished where it lay. 110 Even if—because the hand of the storm appeared from above— 111 I screamed; even if I called to it, “O storm, return to the desert,” 112 The storm would not depart. 113 To me, the woman in Agrunkug, my house of queenship, 114 They did not grant a reign of distant days; 115 Weeping and wailing were established for me. 116 And for the house that used to be the black-headed people’s place to soothe the spirit, 117 Instead of its festivals—wrath and terror they multiplied. 118 Before time, upon my house, the good place, 119 My faithful devastated house—upon which no eye had been cast, 120 Despair, wailings, and bitterness, 121 Wailings and bitterness, they brought into it. 122 My house founded by a faithful man, 123 Like a garden fence was shoved over on its side. 124 The Ekišnuĝal, my house of royalty, 125 My faithful house that became a house of tears; 126 Its building, falsely, its perishing, truly, 127 They granted to me as its allotted share. 128 As a tent, a dismantled harvest shed, 129 As a dismantled harvest shed, it has been exposed to the rain-storm. 130 Ur, my all-surpassing chamber— 131 The wind that had been set in the city has uprooted it, 132 Like a shepherd’s sheepfold, it was uprooted; 133 The swamp has swallowed all my possessions accumulated in the city! 134 The third kirugu 135 Ur has been given over to tears. 136 Its ĝišgiĝal. 137 On that “storm-day,” when this very storm was created, 138 When in the presence of the lady, her city had been destroyed, 139 On that “storm-day,” when this very storm was created, 140 When they had commanded the utter destruction of my city, 141 When they had commanded the utter destruction of Ur, 142 When they had ordered that its people be killed, 143 On that day, I did not forsake my city, 144 I did not neglect my land; 145 I shed my tears before An, 146 I myself made supplication before Enlil. 147 “Let not my city be destroyed!” I said to them. 148 “Let not Ur be destroyed!” I said to them, 149 “Let not its people perish!” I said to them. 150 But An would not change that word, 151 Enlil would not soothe my heart with that “It is good; so be it.” 152 A second time, when there was an assembly in the solemn place, 153 When the Anunna were seated for pronouncing a verdict, 154 I bent my thighs, I stretched out my arms. 155 I shed my tears before An, 156 I myself made supplication before Enlil. 157 “Let not my city be destroyed!” I said to them, 158 “Let not Ur be destroyed!” I said to them, 159 “Let not its people perish!” I said to them. 160 But An would not change that word, 161 Enlil would not soothe my heart with that “It is good; so be it.” 162 The utter destruction of my city they ordered, 163 The utter destruction of Ur they ordered, 164 That its people be killed they decreed its destiny. 165 Although I had given them my speech, 166 Me they lumped with my city, 167 My Ur they lumped with me as well. 168 An—his word is never to be changed, 169 Enlil—his pronouncement is never to be altered.” 170 The fourth kirugu 171 O, Her city that has been destroyed! O, her rites that have been changed! 172 Its ĝišgiĝal. 173 Enlil called the “storm-day”—the people moan. 174 Days of abundance he took away from the land—the people moan. 175 Good days he took away from Sumer—the people moan. 176 The evil “storm-day” he ordered—the people moan. 177 To Kingaluda, the keeper of the storm, he entrusted Sumer. 178 To the “storm-day” that annihilates the land he called—the people moan. 179 To all evil winds he called—the people moan. 180 Enlil makes Gibil his aid, 181 To the great storm of heaven he called—the people moan. 182 The great storm howls above—the people moan. 183 The land-annihilating storm roared below. 184 The evil wind, like a mighty torrent, cannot be restrained. 185 The weapons in the city smash heads, consuming indiscriminately. 186 At the base of heaven, it whirled, roaring—the people moan. 187 In front of the storm, a fire blazes—the people moan. 188 With the raging storm, a fiery glow burns. 189 At noon, when the fog usually dissipates, the fire blazes. 190 At midday, when a bright sun usually rises, the somber “storm-day” scorched. 191 In the land, the bright sun did not rise; like a twilight star it dawned. 192 In the delightful night, the time when coolness sets in—the south wind scorched, 193 By burning potsherds, the dust became scorching—the people moan. 194 Over the black-headed people, the wind swept—the people moan. 195 Sumer writhes as in a snare—the people moan. 196 In the land, it = the storm dashes heads against the walls, consuming indiscriminately. 197 The bitter storm by tears cannot be influenced—the people moan. 198 The sweeping storm makes the land quake, 199 The storm, like a flood, is completely destroying the city. 200 The land-annihilating storm silenced the city. 201 The all-exterminating storm came wickedly toward it. 202 The storm, blazing like fire, ripped the flesh of the people. 203 The storm ordered by Enlil in hate, the storm gnawing away the land 204 Covered Ur like a garment, was spread over it like a linen cloth. 205 The fifth kirugu 206 The storm, a very lion, was attacking—the people moan. 207 Its ĝišgiĝal. 208 On that day, the storm was removed from the city; that city into ruins, 209 O Father Nanna, that city into ruins was made—the people moan, 210 On that day, the storm was removed from the land—the people moan, 211 Its people—though not potsherds—littered its sides.⁠a 212 In its walls, breaches were made—the people moan, 213 In its lofty city gates, which were accustomed to promenades, corpses were piled. 214 In its boulevards, which were built in grandeur, heads were sown like seeds. 215 In all its streets that were accustomed to promenades, corpses were piled. 216 In the places where the dances of the land had taken place, people were stacked in heaps. 217 The land’s blood filled the ditches like copper and tin. 218 Its corpses, like sheep fat left in the sun, of themselves melted away. 219 Its men who were slain with the axe—their heads were not covered with cloth. 220 Like a gazelle caught up in a trap, their mouths bit the dust. 221 Its men whom the spear had struck down were not bound with bandages. 222 As if in the place where their mothers gave birth to them, they lay in their blood. 223 Its men who were brought to an end by the battle mace were not bandaged. 224 Its men—though not drunk with beer—drooped neck over shoulder. 225 He who stood up to the weapon, by the weapon was crushed—the people moan, 226 He who ran away from it was stirred by the storm—the people moan. 227 The weak and the strong of Ur, both perished in famine, 228 Old women and old men who could not leave the house were consumed by fire. 229 Little ones lying in their mother’s bosom, like fish were carried off by the waters; 230 Their nursemaids with strong embrace—their embrace was pried open. 231 The land’s good sense vanished—the people moan, 232 The land’s counsel was swallowed by a swamp—the people moan. 233 The mother looked away from her daughter—the people moan, 234 The father turned away from his son—the people moan. 235 In the city, the wife was abandoned, the child was abandoned, possessions were scattered about. 236 The black-headed people were driven off from their strongholds. 237 Their lady, like a frightened bird, escaped her city. 238 Ningal, like a frightened bird, escaped her city. 239 All their possessions that had been accumulated in the land were defiled. 240 In the storehouses that abound in the land, fires were lit. 241 At its ponds, Gibil, the purifier, did his work. 242 The lofty, inaccessible mountain, the Ekišnuĝal— 243 Its faithful house was entirely devoured by large axes. 244 The people of Šimaški and Elam, the wreckers, counted its worth a mere half-shekel. 245 The faithful house they have been tearing down with pickaxes—the people moan. 246 The city they made into ruins—the people moan. 247 Its lady cries: “Alas, my city!”, cries: “Alas, my house!” 248 Ningal cries: “Alas, my city!”, cries: “Alas, my house!” 249 “As for me, the woman, woe, the city has been destroyed, woe, the house has been destroyed, 250 O Nanna, the shrine of Ur has been destroyed; its people have been smitten”. 251 The sixth kirugu 252 In her cattle pen, in her sheepfold, the woman cries out bitterly: 252a “The city has been destroyed by the storm.” 253 Its ĝišgiĝal. 254 Mother Ningal kept away from her city like an enemy. 255 The woman bitterly utters the wailing for her devastated house, 256 The princess bitterly cries over her devastated shrine, Ur: 257 “An has cursed my city—my city has been destroyed. 258 Enlil has damned my house—it has been smitten by pickaxes. 259 On my ones coming from the south, he hurled fire; Alas, my city has been destroyed. 260 On my ones coming from the north, Enlil hurled flame. 261 In the outer city, he has destroyed the outer city—“Alas, my city!” I shall cry. 262 In the inner city, he has destroyed the inner city—“Alas, my house!” I shall cry. 263 My houses of the outer city were all destroyed—“Alas, my city!” I shall cry. 264 My houses of the inner city were all destroyed—“Alas, my house!” I shall cry. 265 My city no longer multiplies for me like a trusty ewe, its trusty shepherd is gone. 266 Ur no longer multiplies for me like a faithful ewe, its shepherd boy is gone. 267 My oxen no longer stand in their cattle pen, their ox herd is gone. 268 My sheep no longer crouch in their sheepfold, their herdsman is gone. 269 In the rivers of my city, dust has gathered, foxholes are made therein.⁠b 270 In its midst, no flowing water is carried, its tax-collector is gone. 271 In the fields of my city, there is no grain, their farmer is gone. 272 My fields, like fields wrought by a hoe, have grown idle weeds; 273 My irrigated orchards that abounded with syrup and wine have grown mountain thornbushes. 274 My plain that was magnificently planted is burned like a kiln. 275 My possessions, like a flock of crows rising up, have risen in flight; “My possessions!” I shall cry. 276 My possessions—he who came against me from the south has carried them to the south; “My possessions!” I shall cry. 277 My possessions—he who came against me from the north has carried them to the north; “My possessions!” I shall cry. 278 My precious metals and lapis lazuli have been scattered about; “My possessions!” I shall cry. 279 My treasures the swamp has swallowed; “My possessions!” I shall cry. 280 My precious metals—they who know not precious metals have filled their hands with it. 281 My gems—they who know not gems hung them around their neck. 282 My birds and fowl have flown away; “Alas, my city!” I shall cry. 283 My daughters and sons have been carried off in ships; “Alas, my men!” I shall cry. 284 Woe is me! My daughters, in a strange city, took an unfamiliar path. 285 My young men, in a desert they know not, wear filthy garments. 286 Woe is me! My city that ceased to exist, I am no longer its lady, 287 Nanna, the shrine of Ur that ceased to exist, I am no longer its mistress, 288 Upon the ruins into which my house has been made, upon my city that has been destroyed, 289 I, the faithful woman, in place of my house, a strange city has been built. 290 Upon the ruins into which my city has been made, upon my house that has been destroyed, 291 I, Ningal, in place of my city, a strange house has been built. 292 Woe is me! The city has been destroyed, and the house has been destroyed. 293 Nanna, the shrine of Ur has been destroyed, its people smitten. 294 Woe is me! Where shall I sit, where shall I stand? 295 Woe is me! In place of my city, a strange house is being built. 296 I, Ningal, in place of my house, a strange city is being set up. 297 At their being removed from their place, from the plain, “Alas, my men!” I shall cry. 298 At their being removed from my city, Ur, “Alas, my city!” I shall cry.” 299 The woman plucks out her hair as if it were Alfa grass. 300 Her chest, the holy drum, she beats; “Alas, my city!” she cries. 301 Her eyes well with tears, bitterly she weeps: 302 “Woe i[s me! In place of my city,] a strange city is being built. 303 I, Nin[gal], in place of my [house,] a strange house is being set up. 304 Woe is me! My uprooted cattle pen! My scattered cows! 305 I, Ningal, like an unworthy herdsman, the weapon has fallen on my ewes. 306 Woe is me! I am one who has gone forth from the city, I am one who can find no rest. 307 I, Ningal—I am one who has gone forth from the house, I am one who can find no dwelling place. 308 I am one who, as if a stranger, sits like a slave in a foreign city. 309 In the despicable millhouse, who would help me? 310 I am one who, sitting in a debtors’ prison among its inmates, can make no extravagant claims!” 311 In that place, for the sake of her city, she approached him, bitterly she weeps. 312 For the sake of my lady’s house, she approached him, bitterly she weeps. 313 For the sake of her devastated house, she approached him, bitterly she weeps. 314 For the sake of her devastated city, she approached him, bitterly she weeps: 315 “Woe is me! The fate of my city!” I shall cry. “Bitter is the fate of my city!” 316 I, the lady, “My destroyed house!” I shall cry. “Bitter is the fate of my house!” 317 O, my flooded brickwork of Ur that has been washed away! 318 O, my faithful house, O, my city, which you have made into ruins! 319 In the ... of your destroyed faithful house, I shall lie down alongside you. 320 Like a fallen ox, from your wall I shall never rise up! 321 Woe is me! False is its building, bitter is its destruction. 322 I, the woman, my shrine of Ur, whose food offerings have been altered, 323 My Agrunkug, my all-new-house, whose allure is no longer satisfying, 324 My city, which was built but not well established, my one—what for?—devastated, 325 My one both destroyed and devastated, my one—what for?—devastated, 326 Now, it could not escape the force of the storm ordered in hate. 327 O my house of Sîn in Ur, bitter was its destruction!” 328 The seventh kirugu. 329 Alas, my city! Alas, my house! 330 Its ĝišgiĝal. 331 O lady, how did your heart change? You, how will you live? 332 O Ningal, how did your heart change? You, how will you live? 333 O faithful woman whose city has been destroyed, now how will you thrive? 334 O Ningal, whose land has perished, how did your heart change? 335 After your city has been destroyed, now how will you thrive? 336 After your house has been destroyed, how did your heart change? 337 Your city has become an alien city, now how will you thrive? 338 Your house has become a house of tears, how did your heart change? 339 Your city that has been made into ruins—you are no longer its bird. 340 Your faithful house that has been given over to pickaxes—you no longer dwell in it as its resident. 341 Your people who have been led off to slaughter—you are no longer their lady. 342 Your laments have become alien laments, your land no longer weeps; 343 Performing no lamentation prayers, it dwells in foreign countries. 344 Your land, as if “overfilled” with words, is mouth-gagged. 345 Your city was made into ruins, now how will you thrive? 346 Your house has been laid bare, how did your heart change? 347 Its gudu-priest is no longer walking in his wig; how did your heart change? 348 Ur, the shrine, has been delivered to the wind, now how will you thrive? 349 Its en-priestess no longer lives in the ĝipar, now how will you thrive? 350 The uzga-priest, who cherishes lustrations, is no longer making lustrations for you. 351 Father Nanna, your išib-priest no longer holds the ešda-vessel for you. 352 Your lumah-priest, in your holy giguna-shrine, is no longer clad in linen. 353 Your faithful en-priestess, voluptuously chosen, in the Ekišnuĝal, 354 From the shrine to the ĝipar is no longer joyfully proceeding. 355 The aua-priests, in your house of festivals, are no longer celebrating festivals.⁠c 356 They are no longer playing for you the šem and ala drums that gladden the heart, nor the tigi. 357 The black-headed people are no longer bathing for your festivals, 358 Like a thread their lives were cut off in the dirt, their features have changed. 359 Your songs have been turned into laments before you, how long ...? 360 Your tigi music has been turned into wailing, how long ...? 361 Your ox is no longer standing in its cattle pen, it is no longer producing ghee for you. 362 Your sheep is no longer crouching in its sheepfold, it is no longer producing milk for you. 363 Your ghee-carrier is no longer carrying it to you from the cattle pen, how long ...? 364 Your milk-carrier is no longer carrying it to you from the sheepfold, how long ...? 365 Your fisherman once carrying fishes, an evildoer captured, how long ...? 366 Your fowler once carrying birds, the lightning carried off. 367 In the midst of your watercourses, once suitable for magur-ships, teme-plants grow. 368 On your roads that had been constructed for wagons, mountain thornbushes grow. 369 My lady, your city is weeping for you as for its mother, 370 Ur, like a child lost in the street, is searching for you. 371 Your house, like a man who has lost everything, stretches out its hands to you. 372 The brickwork of your faithful house, like a human being, cries: “Where is she?” 373 My lady, you are one who has left the house, you are one who has left the city, 374 How long will you keep away from your city like an enemy? 375 Mother Ningal, you confront your city like an enemy! 376 Although you are a lady loving her city, you have rejected your city, 377 Although you are a lady toiling for her land, you have rejected your city, 378 Mother Ningal, return like an ox to your cattle pen, like a sheep to your sheepfold! 379 Like an ox to your cattle pen of former days, like a sheep to your sheepfold! 380 Like a young child to your room, my lady, to your house! 381 May An, king of the gods, say about you: “Enough!” 382 May Enlil, king of all the lands, decree your destiny favorably! 383 May he restore your city for you; exercise its ladyship! 384 May he restore Ur for you; exercise its ladyship! 385 The eighth kirugu 386 My rites have been alienated from me. 387 Its ĝišgiĝal. 388 Woe, storm after storm destroyed the land together. 389 The great storm of heaven, the ever-roaring storm, 390 The bitter storm that passed in the land, 391 The storm that destroys cities, the storm that destroys houses, 392 The storm that destroys cattle pens, the storm that devastates sheepfolds, 393 That lays hands on the holy rituals,⁠d 394 That lays defiled hands on the weighty counsel, 395 The “storm-day” that cuts off all that is good from the land, 396 The “storm-day” that binds the arms of the black-headed. 397 The ninth kirugu 398 That “storm-day,” the storm in ... 399 Its ĝišgiĝal. 400 The “storm-day” that knows no mother, the “storm-day” that knows no father, 401 The “storm-day” that knows no wife, the “storm-day” that knows no child, 402 The “storm-day” that knows no sister, the “storm-day” that knows no brother, 403 The “storm-day” that knows no neighbor, the “storm-day” that knows no confidant, 404 The “storm-day” that throws down a wife, the “storm-day” that throws down a child, 405 That “storm-day,” the storm that caused the land to perish, 406 The “storm-day” ordered in hate, which passed— 407 O Father Nanna, may that “storm-day” never be set in your city again, 408 May your black-headed people see it no more, 409 May that “storm-day,” like rain pouring down from heaven, never recur! 410 That which smote all living beings of heaven and earth, the black-headed— 411 May that “storm-day” be entirely destroyed, 412 Like the city-gate at night, may the door be closed on it! 413 May that “storm-day” not be placed in the reckoning, 414 May its number be taken down from the peg in Enlil’s temple! 415 The tenth kirugu 416 Unto distant days, other days, to the end of the days! 417 Its ĝišgiĝal. 418 From distant days, when the land was founded, 419 O Nanna, the humble men who laid hold of your feet, 420 Have brought to you their lamentations over the silenced house, their chanting before you. 421 May the black-headed people who have been cast away from you pay homage to you. 422 In your city that has been made into ruins, may a wailing be set up to you, 423 O Nanna, may your restored city be resplendent before you. 424 Like the bright stars, may it never be destroyed, may it walk before you. 425 The personal god of a man brings you a greeting gift, 426 The man of prayer utters a supplication to you, 427 O Nanna, you who have mercy on the land, 428 O Lord Ašimbabbar, at the prompting of your heart, 429 O Nanna, after you have absolved that man’s sin, 430 May your heart relent toward that man who utters supplications. 431 After you look favorably upon that man standing in prayer, 432 O Nanna, you whose penetrating gaze searches the bowels, 433 May those people, those who suffered the evil-bearing storm, appear pure before you. 434 For the sake of those dwelling in the midst of the land, may he bow down to you. 435 O Nanna, in your restored city may you be praised! 436 The eleventh kirugu