The Fool as Gilgamesh When I ran off to the forest, I was
Looking for a favorable message,
I was looking for signs and omens,
I was searching for some news of dreamtime.
I might as well have been King Gilgamesh,
Wondering why he wakened in the night,
Wondering whether a god was passing by,
Wondering why he dreamed a world of ash.
Except for this: I had no Enkidu,
No wild-child, double of my heart and shape.
Except for this: I was a mortal boy,
No marvel two-thirds god and one-third man.
And yet my thoughts went out to Gilgamesh,
Wondering why he wakened in the night,
Wondering whether a god was passing by,
Wondering why he dreamed a world of ash.
Lillu-spirit Lugulbanda sired him,
King of Uruk, Lord of Kulaba–
When he died the courtly scribes wrote fictive
Letters from gods to the Assyrians.
The yearning of the scribes searched Gilgamesh,
Wondering why he wakened in the night,
Wondering whether a god was passing by,
Wondering why he dreamed a world of ash.
Who knew my name or cared that I was gone?
Who saw my ragged clothes and bed of leaves?
What great deed did I do to risk my neck?
Who in this world or others wrote to me?
Yet was I so distant from Gilgamesh,
Wondering why he wakened in the night,
Wondering whether a god was passing by,
Wondering why he dreamed a world of ash?
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