Legend of Keret IIIEpic of Kirta
Is Kirta, your father, then, ill? Valiant Ilha'u answers: No, the king's not direly sick; Kirta your father's not ill. Kirta is having a feast; The king is making a banquet. She approaches her brother and cries out: Why have you deceived me? He's been sick how many a month? How many has Kirta been ill? Valiant Ilha'u answers For three months has he been sick; For four has Kirta been ill. It seems Kirta's reaching the sunset, the grave. She bellows, she raises a wail; Like a cripple, she the door, Stripped down, without, without makeup.
3 You make mankind return to the dust, and say, “Return, O people.” 4 Yes, in your eyes a thousand years are like yesterday that quickly passes, or like one of the divisions of the nighttime. 5 You bring their lives to an end and they “fall asleep.” In the morning they are like the grass that sprouts up: 6 In the morning it glistens and sprouts up; at evening time it withers and dries up. 7 Yes, we are consumed by your anger; we are terrified by your wrath. 8 You are aware of our sins; you even know about our hidden sins.
Notes and References
"... A figure for the end of life (cf., e.g., Psalm 90:6; Job 4:20) or, as in Egyptian thought, a portal to the netherworld ..."
Smith, Mark S., and Simon B. Parker Ugaritic Narrative Poetry (p. 46) Scholars Press, 1997
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