The news of my birth fluttered like a white flame.
My amputated hand wandered in the reeds —
their tubes drew air and breathed.
I heard the lament of the reeds in a channel
and the bellow of buffaloes in another.

Then I pierced the tissue of the sky,
came to you and pressed your lips with mine;
and later when your sweet tongue departed,
I returned to Enlil’s** realm
to play flute for earthworms,
for my joyous deities
who as they prayed kept repeating:
The tongue! The tongue!

Translated by the author