THE CAMPAIGN AGAINST THE SOUTH WIND



The morning light has just appeared,

A black cloud has risen from the bottom of the sky,

Addu thunders in its middle...

Back of Addu the sky is stiff with horror,

What was bright has turned to darkness.

The whole of Earth has broken like a cup.

It is the first day of the South Wind's rave,

Who flew on fast, heating the mountains,

Like a war, reaching the earth.



For all who have seen him.



I am looking at him - and I can't realize,

I am looking at him - and I can't understand,

I am looking at him - and I don't know who he is.



For all who have seen him.





The Dam called Sky encircles the Earth. Way above it, the metal globes
of Heaven shine. They are three, or more... A river called Ocean drifts
the Earth on its waters. This wild nanny cradles its child
affectionately, shaking it maliciously from time to time.

There are some wonderful forests in this Dam called Sky. These
forests resemble each other like twins. Their name is Mashu, and
there is a gate between them, at whose watch-tower stand half-
scorpions, half-humans. The Sun goes out through this gate on its
daily course along the sky.

Moving along on its course, it looks down on the town called Gate of
the Gods. This town is blessed, truly so, since during the time when
Urtasaran was governor it reached the height of greatness, wealth
and honor. No enemy soldiers ever managed to pass through the
armour of its gate, through its walls and through the network of its
numerous streets, where destruction awaits at every single corner! No
horseman, or bowman, or charioteer had ever seized this fortress.

The only enemy who could capture it was the South Wind...

His siege was deadly and patient. Stubborn like the rocking waves.
Persistent like the star-shine on a moonless night. Inexorable like the
will of the gods. Could it be that Ellil, master and ruler of the winds
had sent the people such a terrible plague - a storm full of rage? Or
maybe Shamash, god of the sun, had averted his kind eyes from the
human tribe, and had sent the seven winds of destruction?

The South Wind threw the Gate of the Gods in grief; he covered its
outer walls with dust, turning the houses into ruins, and their roofs
into ashes. He frightened the innocent hearts, and spread panic among
the sinners. He frightened both the guilty and the just. Believers and
non-believers, servants and courtiers, young girls and soldiers, all
trembled with fear. He needed no rest. He blew, again and again, a
terrible destroyer, devastating the plain, piling the river beds with
sand. His breath meant death...

Long, endlessly long was the Dry Period: not from Nisannu till Abu, as
it used to be in ancient times, but till Ululu, Tashritu, till
Arachsamnu*...

Oh, Aruru, Heavenly Mother! Were you asleep on the Great Hill of the
Universe? Or were you tasting of the bliss in Delkug, the dwelling of
the gods? The people, your children, were vanishing under the
sweltering breadth of the Wind! Let them be no more than mud under
the gods' nails - yet they are all your deed. Have mercy Enki, Anu,
and Ishtar! Have mercy on your people! Take away the South Wind's
evils!

The gods poured their advice into the diligent ears of a priest named
Esagilkiniubbib. A wizard-priest-conjurer, able to hear the heavenly
voices, he kneeled by the throne and commenced just such a speech:

"My noble king, servant to Shamash, protector of this land, scythe for
the enemies! The gods demand that you should ride on your chariot in
a campaign, that you should draw your sword and sharpen your spear
against the South Wind. Deprive him of his temple, lay a siege against
it, take it by force and destroy it, set it on fire and raze it to the
ground. You, the conqueror of all lands swept by the world's four
winds, are called upon by the gods to glorify the name of your state,
to prove anew that you deserve your crown, oh, you favorite of the
goddess Ishtar!"

King Urtasaran's heart started beating loudly and his blood began to
boil with joy. It seemed to him that he was a second Adana - the
wisest, the most skilful and most faultless. Adana's net had at one
time been destroyed by this same arrogant South Wind, but the
legendary Adana had cut his wings in revenge. So the tale went...
Wouldn't the gods foretell Urtasaran's victory over the Wind, too? And
the descendants would one day depict this glorious battle on their
alabaster pots and jars...

That's it then! It's settled! Forget all doubts and hesitations! Let
Shamash's golden beam be the banner of the conqueror of the South
Wind!

All the townsfolk were called to the square. The people gathered,
respecting their king's wishes. Urtasaran gave the following speech:

"Let those sons whose mothers depend solely on them return to their
homes. Heads of families may quit this square, too. Only the brave
solitary fighters are welcome to this campaign! Forget your hammers,
scythes and your potter's wheels for the time being. Today the axe
will take the place of the hoe. Let the light of glory brighten your
faces!"

The sun had just crowned itself with azure and had started on its
day-long journey in the morning sky when Urtasaran sacrificed a
young goat to Shamash and raised hands to his lips in a prayer,
stating:

"Oh, Shamash, I am used to military glory! I have enslaved many kings,
and I have taken their gods. Like a giant scissor I have cut through
the rotten threads of many lives that were dear to people. My fiery
team of horses have many times swum through rivers of blood. Now I
am setting off on a campaign against the evil South Wind. Help me! Be
my ally, oh, you ever-so-bright sun!"

The king put his armour on, and his helmet too; stepped on the giant
chariot and took his mighty bow in hand, with fury in his heart and a
readiness to sweep away the invader at once!

And then, like a flight of grasshoppers, his soldiers left the town,
clouding the sky with the dust from their steps. Bowmen, horsemen
and charioteers, all were prepared for battle: they had their hooks,
spears, axes, nets, lariats and ropes ready for the coming attack. The
manes of their horses were washed and curled. Their helmets shone
like gold in the bright sunlight.

Many hours were passed marching through deserts and mountains,
through steep slopes, dingles and waterfalls, with only occasional
stops for rest and a drink of water from the water-skins. The road
was dangerous and difficult to ride; hideous creatures ran through
the grass, while in the sky griffons flew, lion-birds croaked awfully
and cast shadows with their wings, not daring to attack the marching
army. Every living thing wondered if there was any power that could
stop these men!

However....

Suddenly, a black cloud appeared from the bottom of the sky. It
seemed as if Addu, the master of storms, was sending his arrows to
the Earth! It seemed as if Nusku, the god of heat, had soaked them
with the fire of anger! The mountains shook, and in the far distance
the sea storms answered back. The sky was weeping, the Earth was
responding, and there was no escaping the killing eyes of the South
Wind! Like a fragile cup, the Earth covered itself with a net of tiny
cracks and prepared to be split asunder. Light could not be defined
from darkness, and there was no rescue for the eyes: there was no
gulp of air and no comfort for the hearts. People were knocked down
by this wild wind. He sucked shields, chariots and horses up in the
air, and began sending back against the people own their spears,
arrows and lances. A great number of bodies were riddled with holes;
the wind killed every living thing. The lines of the valiant soldiers
thinned down; people did not dare raise their heads; they were all
confused and under that hailstorm wailed like dogs in the face of
death. So many of them started along the road of no return, and no
one could count the victims of that massacre!...

Such was the untimely end of this campaign.

The storm's rage calmed down with the coming of the night. The blasts
died away and the wind's blows cooled down. Syn, the god of the moon,
lit his dim light. But only the half-blinded from fear and defeat could
see it, as something on the ground answered this light with a silent
reflection. If what the astrologers said were true, that the stars and
the sun reflect the creatures existing on earth (and indeed, is it for
nothing that the stars are given earthly names, such as the Onions
and Yoke, Cross, Dragon, Chariot, Goat, Ram and Snake), this meant
that a second moon had existed on this earth for centuries, didn't it?
Wasn't that a moon twinkling?

This miracle hushed the pain, calmed the boiling blood and wiped away
the tears of the valiant soldiers of Urtasaran. Staring at the mist
they stopped breathing, as if their breath could blow out this
unknown light. Their eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, and their
fear returned: somewhere at a distance, where the earth met the sky,
a painted veil rose in the night sky, and there they saw a temple!
That temple's top was high in the clouds, where in the upper reaches
the rains were gathering. Its walls dissolved in the darkness. And like
a fiery arrow, there was just one thought in every mind: this was the
dwelling of the South Wind!

A whisper passed through the ranks and turned into a mad cry:

"I see it! This temple over there with the wings, as if it is a bird!"

"Yes, and it is heating the earth; and it is shaking the skies!"

"No, it looks like a sharpened sword!"

"Oh, no human hand hath forged that steel! Its glitter blindeth my
eyes and burneth my brain!"

"The sword is falling down, as if to cut off our heads! Help! Save
yourselves!"

"No, this is the evil face of a god who is coming down to the earth.
Flames in his nostrils, and flames in his eyes. His hair looks like a
nest of lances!"

"All I can see is just a mouth, opened in an ironic smile! Oh, no, this
creature will surely gulp me down!"

"Hey, look! The walls of the enemy's den have disappeared, as if the
darkness has licked them up! Strange, but the light is wiping itself
out!"

And each man saw this temple differently, and each man was horrified
to the very depths of his heart... ... Esagilkiniubbib's heart had just
calmed down when he heard that his master had sent for him.

"My friend, what are the mighty gods telling us? Is it that we should
turn away from this temple? Or that we have to besiege it? How do we
have to act, tell me, as you are big-eyed, and surely, all seeing;
big-eared, and surely, able to listen to the gods' sayings?"

The king spoke thus and his words demanded an answer. But
Esagilkiniubbib gave him no answer...

"I have seen a lot of enemies," his master continued. "If this whirlwind
was a man, or a king, I would have scared his soldiers' hearts; I would
have taken them captives in the heat of battle; I would have killed
them and would have hung their corpses on posts, and I would have
taken to my town all their silver, gold, and precious stones; their
ivory beds and thrones; all firs, gold-laces and boxwood; as well as all
their daughters, and singers, and concubines..."

"Either your spirit-protector has gone to sleep," the priest
interrupted him sharply, as if Ellil had spread his hands over him,
giving him rein to rudeness far above his rank, "or your great wisdom
has changed into a fool's stupidity. Why are you wasting your
precious thoughts? Their is no use in such dreams! You are fighting a
champion! His teeth are like dragons; he has the face of a lion; his
gulp is a roaring torrent; his body is a burning flame! He has an
invincible power! You are drawing a picture of a victory on the sand,
as if you are a child!"

Urtasaran flew into a rage, roaring in a stentorian voice:

"Have you forgotten, you priest in the long vestments, that it was you
who urged my warriors on to this useless battle? It was you who
inspired me to start this campaign against the South Wind!"

"Such was the gods' wish," answered the priest, "and now they wish
something else!"

"The gods are fickle, just like women!" Said Urtasaran to himself, and
loudly spoke with an evil smile:

"Your wisdom - that's the north wind blowing, pleasing the people!
Don't spare your words and tell me what the gods have whispered in
your ear! If anyone and everyone can go to my town's square and
listen to the sayings of the passers-by on how to cure his wounds,
then it is also true that I, as master and ruler, can ask about the
gods' advise!"

"The gods have ordered me to have a word with His Lordship the
South Wind!" Answered the priest reluctantly and left the king's tent.

Hiding his fear and filling his heart with courage, Esagilkiniubbib
spread his hands towards the South Wind's dwelling and started
speaking, shaking the night air:

"Your Majesty, South Wind! The gods have given you a restless spirit
and powerful wings. But if the most powerful and most glorious one
does not realize what he is doing, then Fate will destroy him - that
same Fate which knows no differences! You would do better to disclose
the fines you want to impose on the Gate of the Gods and let us
depart in peace, or I will start begging the gods' punishment on you,
and will pray for a cruel vengeance for our violated honor. I am well
familiar with the evil, black and gloomy grass born by the Night! I
will beg the gods to plant just such a grass in your horrible bed in
order to confuse your mind and derange your reason. I will convene all
bad dreams and put them together just like so many pieces which are
brought together to produce the uniform thing, and I will wish them
on you, if you don't tell us your will: what do you want from us at
this moment, and why have you besieged us with anger and malice?
Answer me: I conjure you in the name of heaven! In the name of earth
and in the name of the womb of the earth I conjure you!"

Mute silence reigned for a long time all around. The sand glittered
under the moonlight like the diamonds in the king's treasure, like the
soil in those fabulous lands where the white feathers of the cold
sometimes blow in the air before covering the ground with a white
canopy and starting to shine, blinding man's eyes... The
Esagilkiniubbib saw him: at the end of the desert where the Wind's
temple was just changing its outlines, he caught a glimpse of the
giant's face. Sharp as it was, the face looked like a knife cutting
through the sky the same way people cut a ram for a sacrifice! The
beam of his glance through the arrows of his eyelashes began to
approach the priest.

"The beam of horror!" Somebody in the multitude cried out. "The beam
of death!"

The sacred scar on Esagilkiniubbib's shaven head moved as if fondled.
Sweat ran down his forehead. His heart jumped like the heart of a
lynx at the sight of a hunter, and then froze...

The beam trembled and died out, and the darkness was shaken anew by
the moaning of the priest:

"The South Wind has said that he would like to find himself a wife in
the Gate of the Gods! This will be the ransom we all have to pay to
him!"

A wonderful temple had been built centuries ago in the town called
Gate of the Gods. It was enclosed all around by hanging gardens and
terraces with steps supporting the temple's building. There, on these
terraces, maidens from the best families of this memorable town
served the goddess Ishtar. Any foreign visitor who was a guest of the
town could have his lust satisfied upon payment. A strange custom, but
maidens kept sacredly observing it. A girl from a noble family could
not be married if she had not been laid at least once in her life for
money.

The priestesses of higher rank served in the temple itself. People
called them the wives of god. Well, they kept assuring everybody that
Ellil used to come down to that temple at night. So they said... What
really happened only the gods in heaven knew.

These divine maidens, experienced in the games of love, these sacred
whores who had received a thousand kisses on their bosoms, were
urgently sent for by the king, and the priest directed them without
delay straight to the mountains in the desert where the South Wind
lived. The horses which carried the noble beauties were followed by a
caravan which carried their clothes, and sweets, valuables, gold,
silver, downs, costly silks, foreign wines, oils, fragrances -
everything that could be included in a dowry. Along with maids, slave
girls, musicians, and singers... When a man takes a woman into his
house he assumes obligations, too, no matter whether he is a mortal,
or the South Wind himself!

All the beauties lined up in front of the temple whose owner had to
become the husband of: Banat-Inin, Gemenlila, Belilita, Asat-Digla...
Garlands, crowns, ribbons, hairpins, ornaments and bracelets tinkled
softly and tenderly, as if the wind flew through blossoms with petals
of bright honey. Oh, how seductive these maiden-whores were!
Beautiful and full of passion, they promised joy with their gestures
and eyes. They could tempt to their embraces even a dead man from
his bed of peace! How would the fiery South Wind resist them? This
frantic and fast-winged God would surely take these charmers in his
arms!

Suddenly... like a wall again, like a snow-slip, like a wave, the
hurricane came down upon the people. As if he was displeased with the
brides offered to him! How insulting this answer was, how uncouth! It
seemed as if demons like sharp arrows, big and small, flew in the
darkness! As if the ropes installed by the gods from the Earth to the
skies would break in an instant, that was how strongly the South Wind
rocked them, threatening to throw their piles at the Milky Way.

The poor maidens sobbed loudly, drowning the noise of the wind. He
tore the clothes to pieces; mocking them, he took off their clothes as
if wishing to show some bodily defects...

Esagilkiniubbib fell on his knees, spreading his hands toward the
desert in despair:

"Oh, South Wind, master of heaven! I would dare to call you a mighty
dragon. Your endless possessions look like the sea. You can read the
symbols of the stars. Each storm of yours is perfection itself and it
makes silent all pitiful humans who are made of clay and sweat. We toil
in vain to find out: what wife do you need, if you have already
rejected all these? Let us just know! Or do you prefer virgins? Or old
women? Or do you want feathers from the Persian tales? Or maybe a
young she-ass? Or Urtasaran's favorite daughter? Or a delicate
youngster? Or do you want us to bring you the Pharaoh's wife from
Egypt? We don't understand your wish, we can't guess your fastidious
desires. Give us a new sign: whom do you want in your bed?"

And there was silence all around. The sand curled in a thin white beam
sent anew by the South Wind. The beam of horror... But... Where was
it heading to?

Oh, look! The beam has indifferently passed over the famous whores...
It gropes about their dowries like a jester... It searches among the
slave girls and the silent maid-servants... And suddenly - Great
Heavens! Great Womb! Suddenly it became wider and shone in its full
power, as if some unknown one had given a joyful cry: "I found her!
Look at her!"

They looked... The beam was lighting up like in a diamond frame a plain
white-haired girl - a slave girl of the sacred whore Banat-Inin, a
slave girl who washed the golden basin in which that charmer washed
her feet from the dust.

A slave girl of a maid-servant... A slave girl to be the South Wind's
betrothed!

Soldiers, maidens, slaves, the king and the priest - they all gathered
around her in an instant, not taking their surprised eyes from her,
and hiding their mockery.

Oh, what a betrothed! What a beauty! If they had wanted to find an
ugly girl, they wouldn't have been able to find an uglier one in this
world, nor in the next one, either!

A bit too strong in the bones she was, as she was used to hard work.
A bit too thin, as slaves are never fed to satiety. She had the height
of a soldier. Her bright eyes had the look of an owl - steady and evil.
Her hair was like tow ropes. Her hands were tanned by the sun, and
her face was like a pale moon in a dark night. A veritable monster!

Short of stature and well-covered, with exciting splendor in the
waist, with fiery eyes and arched eyebrows, black-haired and dusky
were the daughters of the town called Gate of the Gods. Oh, no, what
a choice had the South Wind made!

And then all the maidens were visited by the same thought, which
struck them like a bolt - the bolt of envy and malice.

"How come? The god did not want ME in his bed, but chose a slave?!"
Her doom could be frightening, but worthy of envy. And envy
instantly made them abusive and mocking of her lot:

"The South Wind's monstrous face probably looks like a snake coiled in
a vineyard. It seems like this woman deserves her husband!"

Esagilkiniubbib made a sign with his eyes, stopping these speeches, and
uttered sweetly:

"Disclose your name to me, you, most sacred maiden, that looks like a
goddess by greatness and stature, with a face like a star decorating
the sunrise!"

"Nirbia", mumbled the slave girl in a hollow voice, glancing
mistrustfully in the priest's dark eyes.

The soldiers whispered to each other, choking with laughter: "Perhaps
he thought this beauty had never had a man and she would present
her virginity as a dowry? One thing is for sure, though: this precious
pearl necklace has many times been pierced with different threads!"

Nirbia watched, sad-eyed, while the priest kept talking to her in his
flowing silvery voice:

"On Ellil's table of fates your lot is noted as excellent - you will be
the South Wind's beloved one! Take off your clothes in front of him
with no shyness! You are the chosen one! Follow your groom to the
temple, you holy bride!"

"Let me be torn into pieces by the dogs, if I ever agree!" Screamed the
betrothed. "His eyes are deadly! I do not need such a husband! You
would do better to offer me to Lamashtu, the goddess with the head
of a lion who brings every sickness from hell, and make me her
servant!"

Esagilkiniubbib did not believe his ears and shook his head as if to
chase away a ghost:

"You... the dirt beneath my feet! A muddy puddle! I know all your sins
and obscene deeds; you are a mat for the brave soldiers! What are you
keeping sacred, whose honor are you protecting? The gods will give
you protection for ever, and also purification, while you continue
being stubborn, girl! If you don't go, I will have you chained by the
hands and the neck, then they will take off your clothes and pour
boiling tar on your bosom, and then the earth will shudder from your
screams of repentance, but it will be too late by far!"

Nirbia closed her eyes, tore through her hair with her nails, as if
with a sharp comb, and screamed piercingly a thousand times:

"Oh, evil demon, called Labasu! You - the waste in stinking, dirty
water! I spit on you, and let my spittle be venomous, and let it burn,
and hurt and sting you like a snake!"

Now Esagilkiniubbib was a brave man, but he hid his face to protect
himself from the magic of the words and the venom of the spit. To his
support, however, the sacred whore came unbidden: Banat-Inin,
Gemenlila, Belilita, Asat-Digla, and they opened up their rosy lips and
launched forth:

"Oh, you, a pinching sandal! If you don't meet the South Wind's wishes,
let you never have a happy home for yourself! May nobody give you
his love, and may you be robbed from your last necklace and have
your last dress torn from top to bottom! Let all passers-by make love
to you not in a bed, but around fences and doorsteps, and at the
crossroads!"

Nirbia opened her mouth and moaned, her body shook, and she tore her
clothes, choking with malice and fear:

"No! I don't want it! I don't want it! I will not go!"

Urtasaran, forgetting his greatness and rank for the moment,
approached the girl and put his noble king's hand on her coarse hair,
saying:

"Love-girl, please save my land from a horrible destruction! In your
honor I will have such a statue made the like of which has never been
seen before. You will be shown in your full height upon a stone
pedestal. Your hair will be made of jewels and your face of alabaster,
while your body will be of pure gold. You will be glorified in tales and
songs!"

Nirbia's hair was just like loose leeks and her voice sounded like the
tinkling of copper coins on a roadside stone as she terribly cursed
the king:

"May the desert owls build their nests in the loop-holes of your
palace! I am a slave girl in your town; I am a slave's daughter; I have
never seen my native land in the north, and besides - I do not wish to
die for the Gate of the Gods, whose soldiers brought us to these hot
lands! And my greatest sin is the price of a pitiful small loaf that I
took to save my mother from starvation... Do you think you can allure
me with a golden statue after my death, you, a man always sated,
luxuriously dressed and a ruler of life and death? I may be a small
grain of sand under your smallest toe, but you will not live to see me
go obediently, like a sheep led to the slaughter-house, to become this
monster's wife. I might be a whore, but so far I have decided for
myself whether to sleep with a man, I have made the choice myself
whom should I go with, for an hour, or for the night!"

The king stepped back and took out his sword in anger, but the priest
dropped his angry eyes, and trying to calm himself and the others,
sobbed:

"Oh, wonderful Nirbia, can you tell me which one of us has been born
to live for ever? Only the gods are immortal, while the days of people
are numbered and short. All sighs, moans, sorrows and tears are swept
by the wind without a trace. But each man, nevertheless, has his
number of days defined and it is bad fortune if this number is
untimely cut short! If you don't give your consent to the South Wind,
he'll lift dead men from the depths of hell and force the living people
to eat them. You know his power and rage! Children and mothers will
be drowned in blood... Your name, Nirbia, will be eternally cursed by
them, if you could have prevented that, but didn't consent to do it..."

His words made Nirbia shiver and stay silent. Her face darkened with
sorrow.

"An old woman told me that once upon a time, before the gods began to
make men and drop them on the earth, people used to grow under the
earth, like grass, and they didn't know sorrow. Oh, gods of my far
away land! Oh, mighty Shamash! I beg you to turn me into a field of
grass! I will grow roots to the depths of the earth and I will
surround myself with stones, so that storms cannot topple me down. If
the tempest uproots me, I will give myself to its will, and I will let it
take me at once from the south to the north, where the sky is higher
and wider; where the sun does not scorch, but fondles you tenderly;
where the mother-land of my ancestors is; where people and nature
have other names and another essence... But I see that my fate is not
to be rooted into the earth, or to fly to the vault of Heaven. I have
never had happiness and I have never had a Lamassu* to protect me
and look after me!"

Nirbia's face changed, growing tired and drawn, as if she was coming
from a long way and Esagilkiniubbib realized: the slave girl had
agreed! The South Wind was going to get what he had wanted!

The maidens instantly put the statue of the goddess Ishtar amidst the
sands. They lit a fragrant cypress incense and poured out some ale as
a sacrifice to the goddess, and then three times raised their hands,
singing:

"How nice it is to pray to you, how good it is to see you! Your will
shines like a torch upon us. Have mercy on us all, oh Ishtar; allot a
share of your mercy to our sister who is going to the South Wind.
Show her the way and give her your blessing. She has pulled your
yoke, oh goddess and has truly served you, so let her deserve her
rest in the arms of her lawful husband with a healthy body and a
joyful heart. Prolong her days and give her a long life. May the
heavens praise your generosity. Be blessed by the gods of the
Universe oh, dear Ishtar. and calm our hearts!"

Thus they started the ritual of dressing the betrothed in her
clothes. They refreshed her energy with an elating beverage, and
rubbed her all over with oil of cypress. Her eyelids were delicately
painted, and golden sandals covered her feet. Her forehead was
decorated with a ribbon, and a shining necklace fondled her wrist. She
was finely dressed up, like a young maiden, but all were surprised to
see that death had seemingly already twisted her features... From the
bottom of her sad heart she cried, addressing the valleys, the rivers
and the swamps:

"If my mother could suddenly come alive, she would mourn over me, and
it would have been easier for me to be wasted..."

"Look, she is leaving! Nirbia is now leaving us!" sang the maidens in a
choir. "She has left the earth, she has left the sky, she has left her
friends and mankind. She has left us all today, and she is going to the
temple of the South Wind..."

...The day was coming to its end. Ishtar* was soon going to show her
face in the skies. Nirbia came closer to the temple with unseeing eyes.
She was seized by evil demons, and her soul was tortured by ghosts.
What a fear... Nobody knew the paths through the Land of No Return,
and its ruler Irqalla would not let a visitor go back.

She had neared the entrance of the kingdom of the dead - the South
Wind's temple. Maybe this temple had dropped from the skies, maybe
the great gods had built it? Its brightness reached the clouds. The
winged bulls Lamassu and Shedu did not stand at its entrance; how
frightening it was to pass through these walls, how dreadful to be
under its arch without the protection of the spirits of good and
concord! True, other creatures lived here: those who knew no thirst,
never wanting to eat, never caressing a woman or breeding children -
the demons of death! Oh, if she could only creep under the doors like
a small lizard! Or better still find a well, an underground spring,
leading to the river Ocean, to reach its waters and swim away like a
fish from the nets that expected Nirbia here.

Vain hopes! Ellil has prepared a fate of sorrow for all people since the
time he gave names to everything in this world, and he has never
been merciful to men!

The road in front of her was dark. The sun threw its last beam, then
turned it away from Nirbia's face. What could she do? She had to
accept the facts. The laws of the Land of No Return were powerful.

"If you wish to leave the netherworld, someone else has to die for
you, like Dumuzi* did for Ishtar. No one will die for me... So what! I
can't escape what Fate has prepared for me. On my right will be my
god, and on my left - my goddess!"

Nirbia was surprised by the outlines of the temple - they looked as if
someone had put his hands together in a prayer... Drawing a deep
breath, she stepped under its arch. Not much could be seen in the
thick darkness. She kept silent in the dusk and listened to his voice.
She started again... Suddenly, she felt as if someone's breath had
touched her tenderly on the face, and then all was light around and
she could see.

Through a forest of precious stones Nirbia walked, touching trunks of
garnet and jasper. Emerald leaves whispered to her. Chalcedony
shiningly blossomed, pleasing her eyes. All was calm. And nobody wished
to torture her body, to take her soul and to ravish her for good.

Nirbia waited, looking around, forgetting about her fears. Endless
chambers and a magnificent bed under the chalcedony arch. She lay
down on it... Who would come to her and join her on this bed?

"He chose me out of many... Why? I don't know. Maybe he found my fair
hair wonderful? Maybe in my blue eyes he saw the reflection of the
sky in a calm river, and he was captivated? I always thought of myself
as a monster of cheap price, and I asked men to pay me cheaply. Why
did the South Wind like me before all others? Maybe he is the only one
who sees the beauty in a woman, and not those people who used to say
I was ugly? How envious were the eyes of all those maiden-whores! If
they only had the chance, they would have me torn into pieces."

"And suddenly I am beautiful, but I never knew it? Can one compare an
apple with a white blossom? With a cloud in the sky? With a star at
dawn? Or the sound of a spring with a song about the sorrows of
love?"

"And what is he like - the one who chose me among many? Is he a child
of the sky, or the desert, or the sea? When he raises his eyes -
mountains are shaken by his glance; he is a master with fiery eyes!
His face probably looks like the storm... And a storm can be
frightening, and beautiful at the same time. Maybe he is also
wonderful? His voice is a hurricane, his mouth is a flame, his breath
is death, but what are his kisses and hugs? Hard like the stones from
the skies? Perhaps he doesn't know peace in love neither in the
daytime, nor at night? His caresses are endless; like death, or like
life? In his kisses I will drink the water of life without end, for ever
and ever... Oh, my beloved one deserves sapphire garlands and Arabian
gold, necklaces, and bracelets of pearls!"

"But... why are you silent, my master, what is holding you back? Pour
the milk of love into my heart! How sweetly I feel that you turned
your seeking eyes toward me, and I bared my legs and soul only for
you... Come quickly! Empty the moonlight and the heat of the sun into
my bosom! I will hold you tight, my darling, like I have never held
anyone before. Painful are hands, knees and breasts when you accept a
guest you don't love, but you have to be obedient. My body is melting
like butter as I expect you!"

"Where are you? How should I attract you, and charm you and lure you
to this high bed? How can I find that fast-winged word that spears
the heart with an arrow of sugar and love? Where are you, the man I
dreamt about in my dreams, bathing my bed in tears when an
occasional visitor snored?"

"You are not coming... Obviously, I have wished for something that has
not been for ages, since the day when the sun looked at the world for
the very first time. A seducer, a maiden, a whore, and I suddenly
dreamt about happiness! Ah, why did you exalt me to the height of my
soul and then push me heartlessly into the precipice? No, my luck is to
be sad and to bitterly cry. Oh, my love, you just took a better look
at me and you realized: such a girl does not deserve me!"

"Tears and sobs be the noose around my neck! And you, mist, cover as
fast as you can these wonderful chambers where I couldn't find my
happiness! Death, as you are the doom of humans, hurry up and lay
down with me on the bed of grief..."

Nirbia's tears ran for a long time, until she fell in a heavy sleep. A
sleep, and there was a dream in this sleep...

"Well, are you happy? Have you played enough?"

"?!?"

"Why are you silent? You got everything you wanted, as far as it is
possible in a dream. Time, country, religion, prejudices, war, sacrifice,
mythology - "The Dream Machine" did it all correctly."

"That's not what I wanted. I did not think she was so shameless."

"She?! Good lord, who is the shameless one here?"

"Certainly, certainly! You are obviously pleased that this person
undressed herself in front of you! If she could have seen you, she
might have easily decided that you are the South Wind!"

"A familiar tune, isn't it? You were impressed by the dream verse,
weren't you? And you are jealous in addition? But, darling, to be
jealous about a dream you made me watch..."

"Yes, it was me. And "the beam of horror", the changing of the temple's
outlines - that was all your invention. You can't manage without
technology! Besides, it was you who picked the South Winds' wife, this
very one! It was all the same to me what she might look like. But she
appealed to you, don't you deny it!"

"Well,... How shall I put it... She is just different from all those
black-eyed beauties, she stood out among the others, although nobody
there thought her lovely. And besides, it seemed to me that she
looked like you. Just look harder and you will see it."

"Thank you, but that is not a compliment!"

"Well, don't be angry. Just think about what will happen to her now."

"So what do you think is going to happen to her?"

"You saw that she was really crying before she fell asleep."

"Oh, god! A woman's tears!... You just got yourself a real beauty of a
proof! We women have our tears ever ready; just bend down your
head, and they come rolling down."

"Really? Thanks for the information, I will remember that. And yet...
We still have some minutes before we wake up. And she will open up
her eyes and see that there is nothing there: no stone garden, no
temple, no hopes - and that she is not the South Wind's sweetheart
any longer, but just a..."

"What is the matter with you? That's just a dream! A dream, unreal, a
theme elaborated on, a fiction composed by the machine! You are
feeling sorry for an immaterial ghost: even a nude picture is more
real than Nirbia. We will wake up, and everything will disappear,
including her. All her memories, sufferings and actions. Don't think
about her - she doesn't exist. I was interested in a woman
disappointed in her best hopes. Now everything is clear and we may
wake up."

"Listen, I never really know what to expect from you. Sometimes you
are just cruel. I realize that this story will serve your purposes,
that you will write it down... and no one will ever know that you have
seen it in your dream; that you didn't just invent Nirbia and the
South Wind, but that you somehow called them to life... and made them
breathe, cry, hope, and now you are doing a study. Hasn't it ever
occured to you though, that while you are amusing yourself you are
digging in something vibrantly alive, and hasn't that hurt your
fantasy?"

"What is it to you, my friend? Don't worry, for goodness' sake,
otherwise you will wake up before me! And you do know that if in a
team-dream the partners wake up at different times, "the Dream
Machine" can go out of order. And its repairs cost a lot!"

"That damn "Dream Machine"! We were crazy about television once, then
along came video, then the personal computers, and now everybody
wastes his money for "Dream Machines". Arranging their own theatres
at night! How long have we slept now?"

"Nineteen minutes and thirty seconds."

"Well, I have had enough. That's enough. Let's wake up. And never take
me into your dreams again, understand? I beg you. Just try to arrange
them without my participation."

"Well then, I am sorry, if you are going to take it this way... Now,
now we will start waking up. Wait a bit, look at her just one more
time. I hadn't thought about that before! There she is, there is the
South Wind's temple! And somewhere at a distance is the desert,
Urtasaran's warriors, the mad priest, the town called Gate of the
Gods... A whole world that will disappear once we open our eyes! And it
seemed so real and alive... And how many of these worlds have I
already created and then killed? What if you are right? If they remain
indeed? If somewhere planets, and stars, and people, and fates are
mixed together; those I have created and then forgotten? And Nirbia
gets up alive from the sand and then... what happens? Maybe we - we
will disappear like a brief and wild dream, which Nirbia had? Maybe we
are the children of her nap?"

"Well, now, there you go again! Enough, I tell you, enough of your
fantasies! Ready? I am putting the "Dream Machine" on a
pre-termination waking status."

The dream suddenly ended. Nirbia lifted up her heavy, wet eyelids and
stood up, looking around... What did she see?! There was nothing in
front of her, nothing around, or above her! The dome was the night
sky with the shining stars, and instead of the luxurious bed - the
indifferent sands of the desert. There were no emeralds jingling, or
chalcedony blossoms.

Oh, gods, why do you give dreams to a human? Your miracles are
sometimes cruel! How good you are at taking the soul into your hands,
and then turning it inside-out like a baby does with its toy... Whose
were these games, whose jokes and whose fun threw Nirbia in this
desert, depriving her of her hopes for happiness and taking away her
dream? Whose voices had she heard in her dream? What were they
talking about between themselves?

"A dream, just a dream! In my dream I wanted to kiss the bright lips,
in my dream I expected my love. Oh, oh, let me leave as fast as I can
this kingdom of deception!"

Leave here quickly?... Somewhere behind the walls of the night
Urtasaran's regiments are spreading the news about the South Wind's
wedding. News about the future calm and peace... And then people will
peacefully go to sleep - for the first time in many months, utterly
trusting in Nirbia. And how could she suddenly appear at the Gate of
the Gods? Not as a favorite of the god, but as a whore turned out by
her lover? To take off her bride's garland and throw it at
Esagilkniubbib's feet? To let them trample her down again, to turn
again to lechery without love? Oh, no-o... No wallowing by the
roadside any more, just flying up, even if that meant a crash!

Let the morning come soon. Oh, Ishtar, lady and hostess of sunrise!
Show me the way to the one whose head is proudly lifted up like a
king, who singled me out... Wherever he might be I will go to him,
walking on sand, on stones, over a river, or over a swamp. Even if
there be a bridge of snakes over a precipice, I will pass over that
bridge in order to reach him... No, my darling, you don't have to fly
lower! Let the gods protect you and lead you ahead. I will follow you
like a bird. I'll make a storm in the skies with my hair and I will give
you a wind, if your wings get tired. No matter how long the road
might be, I shall not leave you while my heart beats. I will die, and my
shadow will trail you like a trace of the perfume of love. The sun will
dry it up and there tenderness will roam in the air. It will refresh
your tired forehead with a brief coolness, reminding you of something
that has never happened... Keep flying! I am right behind.

Shamash looked at the desert with blazing eyes. A line of small
footprints stretched away to the horizon. Driven by the wind, the
sand was hiding them for ever.



-----------

* Dry Period: according to the ancient Babylonian calendar a period
from the middle of March until the middle of July. Nisannu -
March-April; Abu - July-August; Ululu - August-September; Tashritu -
September-October; Arachsamnu - October-November.

* Lamassu - a spirit-protector

* Ishtar - the goddess of love, the planet Venus.

* Dumuzi - a shepherd, husband of Ishtar. When the goddess escaped
from the underworld kingdom, the demons threw him there in her
stead.