A Good Works Translation from Akkadian
The Atrahasis (Atraḫasīs, "Exceedingly Wise") is the Babylonian epic of creation and flood, composed in Akkadian around 1700 BCE. It survives most completely in a three-tablet copy made by the scribe Kasap-Aya in the reign of King Ammi-ṣaduqa of Babylon (c. 1646–1626 BCE), supplemented by fragments from later Assyrian and Babylonian copies spanning over a thousand years.
The poem opens before humanity exists. The gods must labor — digging canals, dredging riverbeds, building cities — and after 3,600 years the lesser gods rebel. The solution proposed by Enki, god of wisdom: create human beings from clay mixed with the flesh and blood of a slaughtered god, to bear the divine burden forever. But humanity multiplies and grows noisy. Enlil, lord of earth, unable to sleep, sends plague, drought, and famine to reduce them. When these measures fail, he resolves on total annihilation by flood. Only Atrahasis, warned by Enki through a reed wall, survives in a great boat with his family and the animals of the land.
This is the fullest Mesopotamian account of the creation of humanity and the great flood — older and more complete than the flood narrative embedded in the Epic of Gilgamesh (Tablet XI), which draws upon it. Where Gilgamesh treats the flood as backstory told by a single survivor, the Atrahasis makes it the central drama: why were humans created, why did the gods want to destroy them, and what changed after the waters receded? The poem's answer is distinctly Mesopotamian — not sin but noise, not divine justice but divine irritation, and not covenant but compromise.
Translated from the Akkadian by the New Tianmu Anglican Church, 2026. The critical text follows the edition of W. G. Lambert and A. R. Millard (Oxford, 1969), freely available on Internet Archive, with normalized readings informed by subsequent scholarship. Significant lacunae in the clay tablets are marked with [...]. The Akkadian transliteration of key passages is included after the colophon.
Tablet I — The Creation of Humanity
When the gods were man,
they bore the labor, carried the basket.
The basket of the gods was great,
the labor heavy, the misery much.
The great Anunnaki, the Seven,
made the Igigi bear the labor.
Anu, their father, was king.
Their counselor — the warrior Enlil.
Their chamberlain — Ninurta.
Their canal-inspector — Ennugi.
They took the lot in hand
and cast the portions.
Anu went up to heaven.
Enlil took the earth for his people.
The bolt, the bar of the sea,
they gave to the prince Enki.
When Anu had gone up to heaven,
and the gods of the deep had gone down below,
the Anunnaki of heaven
made the Igigi bear the labor.
The gods were digging the watercourses,
clearing the canals of the land.
The Igigi were digging the watercourses.
They piled up the Tigris riverbed,
then piled up the Euphrates.
[...]
The deep waters they opened from the source.
All that grows they heaped along the banks.
[...]
They counted the years of their burden.
For three thousand six hundred years
they bore the labor by day and by night.
They groaned. They blamed one another.
They grumbled over the excavation.
"Let us confront the chamberlain,
let him relieve us of our heavy work!
The counselor of the gods, the warrior —
come, let us carry him from his dwelling!"
[...]
Alla raised his voice
and addressed the gods his brothers:
"Come! Let us carry the counselor
of the gods, the warrior, from his dwelling!
Come! Let us confront Enlil
in his dwelling!
Now — declare war!
Let us join battle and combat!"
The gods heard his speech.
They set fire to their tools.
They put their spades to the flame,
their baskets to the fire.
They went, all of them,
to the gate of the warrior Enlil's shrine.
It was night, the middle watch.
The temple was surrounded —
but the god did not know.
It was night, the middle watch.
Ekur was surrounded —
but Enlil did not know.
Kalkal noticed. He was disturbed.
He slid the bolt and watched.
Kalkal woke Nusku.
They heard the noise of the Igigi.
Nusku woke his lord,
got him out of his bed:
"My lord, your temple is surrounded!
Battle has come right to your gate!
Enlil, your temple is surrounded!
Battle has come right to your gate!"
Enlil had weapons brought to his dwelling.
Enlil opened his mouth
and addressed the vizier Nusku:
"Nusku, bar your gate!
Take up your weapons and stand before me."
Nusku barred his gate,
took up his weapons and stood before Enlil.
Nusku opened his mouth
and addressed the warrior Enlil:
"My lord, your face is sallow as tamarisk!
Why do you fear your own sons?
Enlil, your face is sallow as tamarisk!
Why do you fear your own sons?
Send for Anu — have him brought down!
Have Enki fetched into your presence."
He sent, and Anu was brought down.
Enki was fetched into his presence.
Anu, king of heaven, was seated.
The king of the deep, Enki, was present.
With the great Anunnaki seated,
Enlil arose and the case was laid out.
Enlil opened his mouth
and addressed the great gods:
"Is it against me they have risen?
Shall I make war?
What did my own eyes see?
Battle came right to my gate!"
Anu opened his mouth
and addressed the warrior Enlil:
"The reason why the Igigi
besieged your gate —
have Nusku go out
and learn the word of the Igigi."
Enlil opened his mouth
and addressed the vizier Nusku:
"Nusku, open your gate!
Take up your weapons and stand in the assembly.
Kneel before Anu, greet Enlil.
Then say:
'Anu, your father, sent me,
your counselor the warrior Enlil,
your chamberlain Ninurta,
your canal-inspector Ennugi.
Who raised this battle?
Who started this conflict?
Who declared war,
that battle came to the gate of Enlil?'"
Nusku opened his gate,
took up his weapons and stood in the assembly.
He conveyed the words of Enlil.
[...]
"Every single one of us gods declared war!
We have [...] in the ditch.
Excessive labor has killed us!
Our work is heavy, our misery much!
Now every single one of us gods
has resolved on complaint against Enlil."
[...]
Nusku took his weapons,
went and returned to Enlil:
"My lord, you sent me to the assembly.
I went to [...]
I conveyed your words to the [...]
They said to me:
'Every single one of us gods declared war!
We have laid down our tools in the ditch.
Excessive labor has killed us!
Our work is heavy, our misery much!
Now every single one of us gods
has resolved on complaint against Enlil.'"
When Enlil heard this speech,
his tears flowed.
Enlil [...] his words [...]
and addressed the warrior Anu:
"Noble one, with you in heaven is your authority.
Take charge, take command.
The Anunnaki are seated before you —
summon one god and let him be put to death."
Anu opened his mouth
and addressed the gods his brothers:
"Why do we blame them?
Their labor was heavy, their misery much.
Every day [...]
The complaint is heavy, we can hear the clamor.
There is a task for us to set in motion."
[...]
"The birth-goddess is present.
Let the birth-goddess create offspring.
Let man bear the labor of the gods.
Let man carry the basket of the gods."
They called the goddess,
asked the midwife of the gods, the wise Mami:
"You are the birth-goddess, creatress of humanity.
Create a human being, that he bear the yoke.
Let him bear the yoke, the work of Enlil.
Let man carry the basket of the gods."
Nintu opened her mouth
and addressed the great gods:
"It is not possible for me to do such things.
The skill belongs to Enki.
He it is that cleanses all things.
Let him give me the clay, and I will do it."
Enki opened his mouth
and addressed the great gods:
"On the first, seventh, and fifteenth of the month,
I will prepare a purifying bath.
Let one god be slaughtered,
and let the gods be cleansed by immersion.
From his flesh and his blood
let Nintu mix the clay.
God and man shall be thoroughly mixed
in the clay.
Let us hear the drumbeat for all time to come.
From the flesh of the god let a spirit remain.
Let it make the living know its sign —
lest it be forgotten, let the spirit remain."
"Yes!" answered the great Anunnaki,
who assign the fates.
On the first, seventh, and fifteenth of the month,
he prepared a purifying bath.
Wê-ila, a god who had reason,
they slaughtered in their assembly.
From his flesh and his blood
Nintu mixed the clay.
For all time to come they heard the drumbeat.
From the flesh of the god a spirit remained.
It made the living know its sign —
lest it be forgotten, the spirit remained.
After she had mixed the clay,
she summoned the Anunnaki, the great gods.
The Igigi, the great gods,
spat upon the clay.
Mami opened her mouth
and addressed the great gods:
"You commanded me a task —
I have completed it.
You slaughtered a god, together with his reason.
I have relieved you of your heavy labor.
I have imposed your basket upon man.
You raised a cry for humanity —
I have loosed the yoke, I have established freedom."
They heard this speech of hers.
They ran together and kissed her feet:
"Before, we used to call you Mami —
now let your name be Mistress of All Gods!"
They entered the House of Destiny —
the prince Enki and Mami the wise.
The birth-goddesses were assembled.
He trod the clay in her presence.
She kept reciting the incantation.
Enki, seated before her, prompted her.
After she had finished her incantation,
she pinched off fourteen pieces of clay.
Seven she placed on the right.
Seven she placed on the left.
Between them she set a brick of mud.
[...]
She summoned the wise and knowing
birth-goddesses, seven and seven.
Seven produced males.
Seven produced females.
The birth-goddess, creatress of fate —
in pairs she completed them,
in pairs she completed them before her.
The forms of the people Mami shaped.
In the house of the woman in labor,
seven days shall the brick be set down.
[... birth incantation ...]
The bearing woman, the mother —
let her be honored among the women.
[...]
The peoples increased. The land multiplied.
The land was bellowing like wild bulls.
The god was disturbed by their tumult.
Enlil heard their noise.
He addressed the great gods:
"The noise of humanity has become too much for me.
With their uproar they prevent my sleep.
Cut off food supplies for the peoples.
Let the plant-growth be too scarce for their hunger.
Let Adad hold back his rain above.
Below, let the flood not rise from the depths.
Let the wind blow and parch the ground.
Let the clouds thicken but release no rain.
Let the fields diminish their yield.
Let Nisaba bar her breast."
Tablet II — The Plagues
The land had not grown quiet — the peoples had not lessened.
The land was bellowing like wild bulls.
The god was disturbed by their tumult.
Enlil heard their noise.
He addressed the great gods:
"The noise of humanity has become too much for me.
With their uproar they prevent my sleep.
Let there be plague upon the people!"
[...]
He commanded Namtar to cut their numbers.
Disease, sickness, plague, and pestilence
blew upon them like a storm.
[...]
The man Atrahasis — his god was Enki,
and his ear was open to his lord Enki.
He would speak with his god,
and his god would speak with him.
Atrahasis opened his mouth
and addressed his lord Enki:
"How long? Will the gods make us suffer?
Will they make us suffer this sickness forever?"
Enki opened his mouth
and addressed his servant Atrahasis:
"Summon the elders to your house.
Make a plan in your house.
Have them carry a message:
address your worship to Namtar alone.
Do not worship your gods.
Do not pray to your goddesses.
Seek the door of Namtar.
Set baked bread before him.
Offer up a gift of sesame meal.
Let him be shamed by the offering
and lift his hand."
Atrahasis summoned the elders to his house.
He opened his mouth
and addressed the elders:
"I have called you to my house.
Carry a message —
do not worship your gods.
Do not pray to your goddesses.
Seek the door of Namtar.
Set baked bread before him.
Offer up a gift of sesame meal.
He will be shamed by the offering
and will lift his hand."
[...]
The elders addressed Namtar alone.
The offering that the people presented —
Namtar was shamed by the gift
and lifted his hand.
The plague was taken from them.
The gods turned back to their offerings.
[...]
Twelve hundred years had not yet passed
when the land had expanded and the peoples multiplied.
The land was bellowing like wild bulls.
The god was disturbed by their uproar.
Enlil heard their noise.
He addressed the great gods:
"The noise of humanity has become too much for me.
With their uproar they prevent my sleep.
Cut off food for the peoples.
Let the plant-growth be too scarce for their hunger.
Let Adad hold back his rain above.
Below, let the flood not rise from the depths.
Let the wind blow and parch the ground.
Let the clouds thicken but release no rain.
Let the fields diminish their yield.
Let Nisaba bar her breast."
[...]
They cut off food for the peoples.
Adad held back his rain above.
Below, the flood did not rise from the depths.
The field diminished its yield.
Nisaba barred her breast.
Overnight the fields became white.
The broad plain brought forth salt.
The womb of the earth rebelled —
no plant came forth, no grain grew.
Pestilence was laid upon the peoples.
The womb was bound, it could not deliver.
[...]
Atrahasis — his ear was open to his god Enki —
would speak with Enki, his lord.
Enki opened his mouth
and addressed his servant Atrahasis:
"Have the elders present an offering.
Address your worship to Adad alone.
Let Adad rain down in the night
a heavy dew, in secret.
Let the fields bring forth by stealth.
Let the dew sustain you in the drought."
[...]
They addressed Adad alone.
Adad rained down in the night
a heavy dew, in secret.
The fields brought forth by stealth.
The drought was broken.
[...]
Twelve hundred years had not yet passed
when the land had expanded and the peoples multiplied.
The land was bellowing like wild bulls.
Enlil was angered by their noise.
He addressed the assembly of the gods:
"The noise of humanity is too much for me.
With their uproar they prevent my sleep.
Cut off food for the peoples.
Let Adad hold back his rain above.
Below, let the flood not rise from the depths."
[...]
When the second year arrived,
they had depleted the storehouse.
When the third year arrived,
their features were changed by hunger.
When the fourth year arrived,
their long legs had grown short,
their broad shoulders had grown narrow.
They walked hunched in the streets.
When the fifth year arrived,
a daughter watched her mother enter —
the mother would not open her door to the daughter.
The daughter watched the scales at the selling of her mother.
The mother watched the scales at the selling of her daughter.
When the sixth year arrived,
they served the daughter for dinner.
They served the son for food.
[...]
One household consumed another.
Their faces were covered, as with malt.
The people lived on the edge of death.
[...]
Atrahasis — his ear was open to his lord Enki.
He spoke with his god.
Enki gave him counsel
as before — address Adad alone [...]
But at every turn, Enki opened a way.
At every turn, he saved his people.
Enlil was furious.
He addressed the assembly of the gods:
"We all of us together took an oath!
Come — all of us — let us swear an oath to the killing flood!"
Anu swore first.
Enlil swore.
Ninurta swore.
Ennugi swore.
[...]
Enki also swore with them —
but opened his mouth and addressed the gods his brothers:
"Why do you bind me by oath?
Am I to lay hands on my own people?
The flood that you mention to me —
what is it? I do not know.
Am I to produce a flood?
That is Enlil's task."
[...]
Tablet III — The Flood
Atrahasis opened his mouth
and addressed his lord Enki:
"Teach me the meaning of the dream,
[...] that I may seek its outcome."
Enki opened his mouth
and addressed his servant:
"You say: 'What am I to seek?'
Attend to the message that I send you.
Reed fence, reed fence! Brick wall, brick wall!
Reed fence, hear! Brick wall, reflect!
Man of Shuruppak, son of Ubar-Tutu —
tear down your house, build a boat!
Abandon your possessions, seek your life!
Spurn your property, keep your soul alive!
Take aboard the boat
the seed of all living creatures.
The boat that you build —
let its dimensions be measured:
let its width and its length be equal.
Roof it over like the deep."
[...]
Atrahasis opened his mouth
and addressed his lord Enki:
"My lord, I have never built a boat.
Draw the design on the ground,
that I may see the design and build the boat."
Enki drew the design on the ground.
[...]
"The boat that you build —
roof it over like the deep.
Let no sun see inside.
Let it be roofed above and below.
The gear should be very strong,
the pitch should be thick, to give strength.
I will shower down upon you later
a windfall of birds, a rush of fishes.
He will cause abundance to rain upon you [...]"
[...]
He opened the water-clock and filled it.
He told him the coming of the flood
for the seventh night.
Atrahasis received the command.
He assembled the elders at his gate.
Atrahasis opened his mouth
and addressed the elders:
"My god does not agree with your god.
Enki and Enlil are angry with each other.
They have driven me from my house.
Since I worship Enki,
he told me this.
I cannot live in [...]
I cannot set my foot on the earth of Enlil.
[...]"
[...]
He invited his people to a feast [...]
his family he brought aboard.
They were eating. They were drinking.
But he himself went in and out —
could not sit down, could not crouch —
for his heart was broken and he was retching bile.
The face of the weather changed.
Adad bellowed from the clouds.
When Atrahasis heard the voice of Adad,
pitch was brought to him and he sealed his door.
While he was sealing his door,
Adad was bellowing from the clouds.
The winds raged as he went up
and cut the mooring rope, setting the boat free.
[...]
The flood came forth.
Its power came upon the peoples like a battle.
One person could not see another.
They could not recognize each other in the destruction.
The flood bellowed like a bull.
The wind howled like a screaming eagle.
The darkness was thick. There was no sun.
[...]
Even the gods were afraid of the flood.
They withdrew. They went up to the heaven of Anu.
The gods cowered like dogs,
crouched against the outer wall.
Ishtar screamed like a woman in labor.
The mistress of the gods wailed, she whose voice is sweet:
"The olden days have turned to clay,
because I spoke evil in the assembly of the gods!
How could I speak evil in the assembly of the gods,
ordering battle to destroy my people?
It is I myself who gave birth to my people!
Like the spawn of fish, they fill the sea!"
The Anunnaki gods wept with her.
The gods sat weeping,
their lips drawn tight [...]
— all of them.
For seven days and seven nights
the flood came, the storm, the deluge.
Where it had swept, the flood leveled all.
[...]
The storm and the flood raged together like warring armies.
When the seventh day arrived,
the storm and the flood ceased their battle,
which had struggled like a woman in labor.
The sea grew calm. The storm was stilled. The flood stopped.
[...]
He looked at the weather. Stillness reigned.
All of humanity had turned to clay.
The landscape was level as a flat roof.
He opened a vent. Daylight fell on his face.
He knelt down and wept.
Tears ran down his cheeks.
He looked in every direction — the edge of the sea.
At fourteen leagues a shore arose.
On the mountain of Niṣir the boat came to rest.
The mountain of Niṣir held the boat and would not let it move.
[...]
He brought out an offering to the four directions
and set up incense on the peak of the mountain.
Seven and seven ritual vessels he arranged.
Below them he heaped cane, cedarwood, and myrtle.
The gods smelled the savor.
The gods smelled the sweet savor.
The gods gathered like flies over the offering.
[...]
When at last the great goddess arrived,
she lifted the great fly-ornaments
which Anu had made to please her:
"You gods here — as surely as I shall not forget
this lapis lazuli at my neck,
I shall remember these days and never forget them.
Let the gods come to the incense offering —
but let Enlil not come to the incense offering,
because without reflection he brought the flood
and consigned my people to destruction."
[...]
When at last Enlil arrived
and saw the boat, Enlil was filled with fury.
He was seized with rage against the gods:
"A living soul has escaped?
No man was to survive the destruction!"
Ninurta opened his mouth
and addressed the warrior Enlil:
"Who but Enki could do such a thing?
Enki alone knows every design."
Enki opened his mouth
and addressed the warrior Enlil:
"You, the wisest of the gods, the warrior —
how could you, without reflection,
have brought about the flood?
Lay upon the sinner his sin.
Lay upon the transgressor his transgression.
But be lenient, lest he be cut off.
Be patient, lest he be destroyed.
Instead of your bringing about the flood,
a lion could have risen to diminish the people.
Instead of your bringing about the flood,
a wolf could have risen to diminish the people.
Instead of your bringing about the flood,
famine could have occurred to waste the land.
Instead of your bringing about the flood,
plague could have risen to strike down the people.
I did not reveal the secret of the great gods.
I caused Atrahasis to see a dream,
and so he heard the secret of the gods."
[...]
Enlil went up aboard the boat.
He took Atrahasis by the hand and led him up.
He led his wife up and had her kneel at his side.
He stood between them. He touched their foreheads.
He blessed them:
"Previously Atrahasis was human.
Now Atrahasis and his wife shall be as gods to us.
Atrahasis shall dwell far away,
at the mouth of the rivers."
They took him far away
and settled him at the mouth of the rivers.
[...]
But as for the peoples —
to preserve the peoples and to govern their numbers —
Enki opened his mouth
and addressed the great goddess Nintu:
"You, birth-goddess, creatress of destinies —
establish death for the peoples.
Let there be among the peoples
the woman who does not bear.
Let there be the pāšittu-demon
who snatches the baby from the mother's lap.
Establish the nadītu-women, the ugbabtu-women,
and the entu-priestesses —
let them be taboo,
and so cut off childbearing."
[...]
The colophon of the scribe:
The text is finished. Three tablets.
By the hand of Kasap-Aya, the junior scribe.
Month Ayyaru.
In the reign of Ammi-ṣaduqa, king of Babylon —
Atraḫasīs, according to the original, he copied it out.
Colophon
The Atrahasis (Atraḫasīs) is the Babylonian epic of the creation of humanity and the great flood. The Old Babylonian version was composed around 1700 BCE and is preserved most completely on three clay tablets copied by the scribe Kasap-Aya during the reign of King Ammi-ṣaduqa of Babylon (c. 1646–1626 BCE). The tablets are held in the British Museum (BM 78941 + 78942 + 78943), supplemented by later Assyrian copies from the library of Ashurbanipal at Nineveh and Babylonian copies from other sites. The text has significant lacunae — portions of all three tablets are damaged or lost. Where the Old Babylonian text is fragmentary, later copies occasionally preserve lines that fill gaps, though the recensions differ in details.
This translation is a Good Works Translation produced by the New Tianmu Anglican Church with AI assistance, independently derived from the Akkadian. The critical text follows the edition of W. G. Lambert and A. R. Millard, Atra-ḫasīs: The Babylonian Story of the Flood (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1969), freely available on Internet Archive. English translations by Lambert (1969), S. Dalley (Myths from Mesopotamia, Oxford, 1989), and B. R. Foster (Before the Muses, 3rd ed., 2005) were consulted as reference for ambiguous passages but were not used as the basis for this translation. Any errors in reading or interpretation are the translator's own.
The poem's central question — why did the gods create humanity, and why did they almost destroy their creation? — receives a distinctly Mesopotamian answer. Humans were made to bear the gods' labor, and they were nearly destroyed not for sin but for noise. The resolution is not a covenant of divine mercy but a pragmatic compromise: population control through infant mortality, celibate priesthoods, and barren women. It is one of the oldest meditations on the relationship between creator and created, and one of the most honest.
Compiled and formatted for the Good Work Library by the New Tianmu Anglican Church, 2026.
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Source Text: Atraḫasīs (Akkadian Transliteration)
Normalized transliteration of key passages from the Old Babylonian version (BM 78941–78943), following Lambert and Millard (1969). The full critical text of all three tablets (~1,245 lines) is available in Lambert and Millard's edition, freely accessible on Internet Archive. Presented here for reference, study, and verification alongside the English translation above.
Tablet I — Opening (Lines 1–35)
- inūma ilū awīlum
- ublū dulla izbilū šupšikka
- šupšik ilī rabīma
- dullum kabtum mādûma
- rabiat anamtum
- ilu Igīgī šupšikka
- ublū dulla izbilū šupšikka
- Anum abušunu šarrum
- mālikusun qurādum Enlil
- guzalāšunu Ninurta
- gugallāšunu Ennugi
- ilū isqam ilqēma
- iddīma purussê
- Anum elīš ana šamê
- Enlil ilqēma erṣetam ana nišīšu
- ši-ga-ar na-aq ta-am-ti
- iddinu ana rubê Enki
- Anum ana šamê īteli
- u ilī Apsî irdū
- Anunnakū ša šamê
- dulla ušēṣbilū Igīgī
- ilū ḫerrū nārātim
- nārāt māti iptēma
- Igīgī ḫerrū nārātim
- ikšudū-ma ḫerrāt Idiglat
- [...] ḫerrāt Purattim
- [...]
- [...]
- ša 3600 šanāt dullam izzizū
- mūšam u ūmam izzizū
- idammumū [...]
- ištasū eli ḫerrêtim
- nandira guzalâ
- līppaṭir dullani kabittam
- ilī šar ilī qurādum
Tablet I — Creation of Humanity (Lines ~210–260)
liptēma ša libbi ilittim
liptēma awīlam
libil dulla ilī
lipṭur šupšik ilī
izakkara ilittam
šêltam ilī muddât ša Mami
atti bēlet-ili bānât awīlūti
binî lullâ liṭbil nīra
liṭbil nīram ša Enlil
liṭbil dullam ša ilī
Nintu pâša īpušma
izzakkar ana ilī rabûtim
anāku ul adagalšu epēšu
ša Enki ippušu šipru
šūma ullalamma mimmâ
idnam ṭiṭṭam-ma lu eppuš anāku
Enki pâšu īpušma
izzakkar ana ilī rabûtim
ina ūm 1 7 u 15 ša arḫi
ramkam ellam lu ušāb
ištēn ilum li-in-na-ḫi-ir
ina puḫri lilū illilū
ina šīrišu u damīšu
Nintu liballu ṭiṭṭam
ilum u awīlum liḫtalliqū
ina ṭiṭṭi
ana dārātim uppam i nišmē
ina šīr ilim eṭemmu libbašī
ana balāṭ ūmī ittašu lušēdi
ana lā muššê eṭemmu libbašī
anniam iqtabû Anunnaki rabûtum
ša šīmāti išīmu
Tablet III — The Reed Wall (Lines ~20–35)
Enki pâšu īpušma
izzakkar ana kikkiši
kikkišu kikkišu! igāru igāru!
kikkišu šimēma igāru putrissi!
amēl Šuruppak mār Ubur-Tutu
qur bītam binī elippa
emiq mākkūram napištam šêl
zēr mākkūri uzub napištam bēl
šuqul elippa
zēr napšāti kala lalê
Tablet III — The Gods at the Flood (Lines ~112–130)
ilū ipallḫū abūba
ikkalū ītellû ana šamê ša Anim
ilū kīma kalbī kunnu
ina masakkīšunu rabiṣ
Ištar kīma alitti iṣṣarruḫ
ibakki bēlet ilī šaqât rigimša
ūmū allûtum ana ṭiṭṭi itūrū
aššu anāku ina puḫur ilī lemuttam aqbē
kī aqqabû ina puḫur ilī lemuttam
ana ḫulluq nišīya qabla aqbē
u anāku alittam nišīya
kīma nūn ḫubburi umallûšunūti tâmta
Anunnakī ittīša ibakkû
ilū ašbūma ina bikīti
šaptušunu kunnâ
[...] kullassin
Source Colophon
Critical edition: W. G. Lambert and A. R. Millard, Atra-ḫasīs: The Babylonian Story of the Flood (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1969), with Miguel Civil contributing the Sumerian flood story section. The edition is freely available on Internet Archive. The principal manuscript is the Old Babylonian three-tablet recension BM 78941 + 78942 + 78943, copied by the scribe Kasap-Aya (Nur-Aya) in the month of Ayyaru during the reign of Ammi-ṣaduqa of Babylon (c. 1646–1626 BCE). Later copies from Nineveh (K.3399+, K.3339+, K.8562, and other fragments from the library of Ashurbanipal) and from Sippar, Babylon, and other sites supplement the damaged portions of the Old Babylonian text. The normalized transliteration above covers key passages only; the full critical apparatus of all three tablets is available in the Lambert and Millard edition.
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