The original version of the Book of the Righteous Sufferer.

Who could learn the reasoning of the gods in heaven?
Who could grasp the intentions of the gods of the depths?
Where might human beings have learned the way
I wish I knew that these things were pleasing to a god!
What seems good to one´s self could be an offence to a god,
What in one´s own heart seems abominable, could be good to one´s god!

People´s motivations change in a twinkling!
Starving, they become like corpses,
Full, they would rival their gods.
In good times, they speak of scaling heaven,
When it goes badly, they complain of going down to hell.
I have pondered these things; I have made no sense of them.
But as for me, in despair a whirlwind is driving me!

An evil vapor has blown against me from the ends of the earth,
Head pain has surged upon me from the breast of hell,
A malignant spectre has come forth from its hidden depth,
A relentless ghost came out of its dwelling place.
A she-demon came down from the moutain,


They assembled their host, together they came upon me:
They struck my head, they closed around my pate,
My features were gloomy, my eyes ran a flood,
They wrenched my muscles, made my neck limp,
They thwacked my chest, pounded my breast,
They affected my flesh, threw me into convulsion,

They churned up my bowels, they twisted my entrails
Coughing and hacking infected my lungs,
They infected my limbs, made my flesh pasty,
My lofty stature they toppled like a wall,
My robust figure they flattened like a bulrush,
I was dropped like a dried fig, I was tossed on my face.
A demon has clothed himself in my body for a garment,

Drowsiness smothers me like a net,
My eyes stare, they cannot see,
My ears prick up, they cannot hear.
Numbness has spread over my whole body,
Paralysis has fallen upon my flesh.
Stiffness has seized my arms,
Debility has fallen lupon my loins,
My feet forgot how to move.
A stroke has overcome me, I choke like one fallen
Signs of death have shrouded my face!


For lack of food my features are unrecognizable,
My flesh is waste, my blood has run dry,
My bones are loose, covered only with skin,
My tissues are inflamed, afflicted with gangrene.
I took to bed, confined, going out was exhaustion,
My house turned into my prison.

My afflictions were grievous, the blow was severe!
A scourge full of barbs thrashed me,
A crop lacerated me, cruel with thorns,
All day long tormentor would torment me,
Nor a night would he let me breathe freely a moment
From writhing, my joints were separated,
My limbs were splayed and thrust apart.
I spent the night in my dung like an ox,
I wallowed in my excrement like a sheep.

The Lord took hold of me,
The Lord set me on my feet,
The Lord revived me,
He rescued me from the pit
He summoned me from destruction
.... he pulled me from the river of death,
.... he took my hand.
He who smote me,
Marduk, he restored me!

The Babylonians saw how Marduk can restore to life,
And all mouths proclaimed his greatness,
"Who would have said he would see his sun?
"Who would have imagined that we would pass through this street?
"Who but Marduk revived him as he was dying?
"Besides Sarpanitum, which goddess bestowed his breath of life?
"Marduk can restore to life from the grave,
"Sarpanitum knows how to rescue from annihilation,
"Wherever earth is founded, heavens are stretched wide