I will praise the lord of wisdom, the considerate god, angry at night but relenting at daybreak.⁠a Marduk, the lord of wisdom, the considerate god, angry at night but relenting at daybreak. In his fury he is like a violent storm, a wasteland, yet his blowing is pleasant, like a breeze at dawn. In his anger he is irresistible, his fury a flood, yet his mind is merciful, his mood relenting. The brunt of his hands the heavens cannot bear, yet his palm is so gentle it rescues the dying. On account of his wrath graves are dug, through his mercy he raises up the fallen from disaster. He frowns and the divine guardian withdraws, he takes notice and the god returns to the rejected. His grievous punishment is immediately overbearing, yet he shows pity and instantly becomes motherly. He hastens to strike like a wild bull, yet like a cow with her calf he is attentive. His beatings pierce the body, yet his bandages revive the dead. He imputes guilt with his word, yet on the day of his offering guilt is absolved. He causes suffering by demon and chill, yet by incantation he drives them away. He sees everything in the hearts of the gods, yet no god knows his way. As heavy as his hand is, his heart is merciful; as violent as his weapons are, his intention sustains life. I, who ate mud like a fish, extol his anger. He quickly showed me favor, as one who revives the dead. I will teach the people that supplication is near; may his favorable invocation carry away their sin. From the day Bel punished me, from the day Marduk was angry with me, my god rejected me and vanished, my goddess departed from my side. My protective spirit withdrew, my divine guardian fled in terror. My dignity was taken, my strength obscured, my presence diminished. Terrorous portents were set for me; I was expelled from my house and wandered outside. My omens were confused, my oracle undecided. What I heard in the street foretold evil, my dreams at night were terrifying. Courtiers plotted slander against me; they gathered and incited calumny. One said, “I will pour out his life.” Another said, “I removed him from office.” Another seized my position; another took my household. A band of seven gathered against me, relentless as demons. They set slander and obstruction against me, they bound my speech. I, whose lips once chattered, became mute. My proud head bowed to the ground. I learned to slink like a slave; I became alienated from my family. My brother became a stranger, my friend an enemy. My household cursed me openly; my family rejected me. Those who praised me were silenced; those who slandered me were advanced. My possessions were scattered, my fields fell silent. Day was sighing, night lamentation. Like a dove I moaned all my days, like a singer I wailed my lament.⁠b My eyes burned with tears.⁠c Year followed year and misery increased. I called to my god, but he did not answer; I implored my goddess, but she did not heed. The diviner could not clarify my case, the dream interpreter found no answer. The exorcist did not release the divine anger. I was treated like one who neglected the gods, like one who abandoned offerings and festivals, yet I had been devoted to prayer and sacrifice. The day of fearing the gods was my delight, the procession of the goddess my joy. Yet what is good to oneself may offend the god; what wounds the heart may please the divine. Who can know the plans of the gods? Who understands their counsel? Human destiny shifts in an instant: from joy to mourning, from strength to distress. A storm drove me; sickness advanced. Evil wind blew against me. Demons, ghosts, and illness joined forces, they struck my body and filled me with pain. My eyes could not see, my ears could not hear. Paralysis seized my flesh. Hunger prolonged, food became repulsive, my body wasted away. My house became my prison. My grave lay open; mourning was prepared. My god did not take my hand, my goddess did not walk beside me. His hand was too heavy to bear. Day and night I moaned. Then a man appeared in a dream, radiant, clothed in awe. He said, “Your lord has sent me.” Again I dreamed: a purification priest poured water over me and spoke the incantation of life. Again I dreamed: a woman, radiant and queenly, ordered my deliverance. Again I dreamed: an exorcist sent by Marduk brought a bandage for me. My sickness ended quickly; my bonds were broken. The heart of Marduk was appeased; he accepted my prayers. He drove away demon and disease, sent headache back to the depths, removed pall from my eyes, opened my ears, loosened my tongue. My throat sang again; my body was restored. I flourished. My strength returned. My body was renewed. My features became radiant again. I was released from bondage. I walked freely through the streets, I offered penitential prayer in Esagila. Let the one who neglects Esagila learn from me. My lord soothed me; my lord bandaged me. From the pit he rescued me; from disaster he raised me up. He struck my striker, muzzled the lion devouring me, snatched the weapon from my pursuer. I entered the gates of life again: the Gate of Well-Being, the Gate of Life, the Gate of Release from Guilt. I offered incense and sacrifice, poured beer and wine, rejoiced the divine guardians of Esagila. The people said: “Who but Marduk could restore him from death? Who but Zarpanitu could give him life?” As many as walk upon the earth, praise Marduk. I, Shubshi-meshre-Shakkan, sang your praise. Your praise is sweet.