Once, there was a story
in winding words lay written
of all that was to end
and emptiness appeared
When Atarḥáyyu rāš Libbíšu
the Hero, the Possessor of his Heart,
drew forth afore the Nothing
set out to find a name
on darkest trails of darkness
for none he shall obtain
He bore the noble Splendour
and laid his arms to rest
abandoned hope and gain
nor time should him attain
He cast aside his sight
for naught he was to yearn
when calmness reigned his eyes
to emptiness he turned
He rode a seven saroi
and seven šār he rode
on darkest trails of darkness
his destiny he wrote
He drove a road that went
where beginning came to end
where ending was unknown
and all was drawn anew
Across lands spread far and wide
the Splendour was his guide
to mountains laid on high
to the stars and to the sky
he went but did not find
Across rivers did he sail
the Splendour his avail
to the corners of the world
to Šubartu, Martu, Elamtu, Šumer
the weight of all he was to bear
Across promontory and vale
the Splendour cast his way
to the Nothingness, the Pale
to the darkness, to the Nothing
a name he came to find
He drew forth afore the Pale
set out to find a name
to the Far-Away, Remote
to Ūtnápištim he came
A name he was to lend
to Ningídumu, the Kindly,
to Īnkuzén, the Golden-Eyed,
when all was but to end
To Ūtnápištim he came
when all was but to end
the Far-Away, Remote
when naught there was of hope
When Atarḥáyyu, the Hero
drew forth to find a name
may blessed be his hands
may the Splendour be his countenance
may calmness reign his eyes
Once, there was a story
in silent signs concealed
it drew itself anew
and emptiness drew near
