Gilgamesh opened his mouth and answered sovereign Ishtar:

“If I take you in marriage, what gifts can I give in return?

What ointments and clothing for your body?

I would gladly give you bread and all sorts of goods fit for a god.

But as for making you my wife- that I will not.

Your lovers have found you like a brazier which smoulders in the cold,

A backdoor which keeps out neither squall of wind nor storm,

Pitch that blackens the bearer

A water-skin that chafes the carrier.

Which of your lovers did you ever love forever?

Listen to me while I tell the tale of your lovers.

There was Tammuz*, the lover of your youth,

For him you decreed wailing, year after year.

You loved the many-coloured roller,

But still you struck and broke his wing

Now in the grove he sits and cries “my wing, my wing”.

You have loved the lion tremendous in strength,

Seven pits* you dug for him, and seven.

You have loved the stallion magnificent in battle

And for him you decreed whip and spur and a thong,

You have loved the shepherd of the flock,

For you, day after day, he killed kids for your sake.

You struck and turned him into a wolf,

now his own hounds worry his flanks.”