“_At his vanishing away she lifts up a lament,_ _‘__Oh my child!__’__ at his vanishing away she lifts up a lament;_ _‘__My Damu!__’__ at his vanishing away she lifts up a lament._ _‘__My enchanter and priest!__’__ at his vanishing away she lifts up a lament,_ _At the shining cedar, rooted in a spacious place,_ _In Eanna, above and below, she lifts up a lament._ _Like the lament that a house lifts up for its master, lifts she up a lament,_ _Like the lament that a city lifts up for its lord, lifts she up a lament._ _Her lament is the lament for a herb that grows not in the bed,_ _Her lament is the lament for the corn that grows not in the ear._ _Her chamber is a possession that brings not forth a possession,_ _A weary woman, a weary child, forspent._ _Her lament is for a great river, where no willows grow,_ _Her lament is for a field, where corn and herbs grow not._ _Her lament is for a pool, where fishes grow not._ _Her lament is for a thicket of reeds, where no reeds grow._ _Her lament is for woods, where tamarisks grow not._ _Her lament is for a wilderness where no cypresses (?) grow._ _Her lament is for the depth of a garden of trees, where honey and wine grow not._ _Her lament is for meadows, where no plants grow._ _Her lament is for a palace, where length of life grows not._”(10)