56. The Legends of the City of Ur and the Fall of the Anunnaki

In Ur there was a moon god. An enpriestess played a significant role in various rites and hymns and stimulated fertility in ancient Ur as the earthly consort of Nanna, the moon god. Inanna was most likely the moon god's consort initially, but her young fiancé Dumuzi took over that role. The moon god's offspring, Inanna and Utu, play no role in hymns to the moon god. In this chapter, we will examine the moon god's role and capabilities for stimulating the fertility of farmers' crops and livestock. The Semitic moon god, Sin, is mentioned in many kings' names, such as Naram-Sin, Beloved-by-Sin, Amar-Sin, Calf-of-Sin, Usin, Hand-of-Sin, Ibi-Sin, Fruit-of-Sin, and Rim-Sin, Wild-Bull-of-Sin. As nomads roaming the steppes, the Amorite dynasties worshipped the moon god. As a nomad, the moon was always more important than the fierce sun scorching the earth during the day as he led his stars over the dome of heaven, just as the nomads did with their cattle. In the ancient world, Nanna was known worldwide for his ziggurat, the Eki Nugul, and his temple in Ur. The third dynasty of Ur's founder, King Ur-Namr, constructed it during the second millennium. A stele depicting himself serving Nanna and Ningal was erected to commemorate his building activities. The king is shown twice, once to the right while pouring a libation into a vase from which a date palm rises up in front of the god, and again to the left in front of the goddess. The Sumerian name for the moon god was Nanna, while the Akkadian name was Suin or Sin. This Akkadian name has no clear meaning in the Semitic language, and Suin may not have originated in Mesopotamia. As a result, his name was more consistent with other gods in the Sumerian pantheon, such as Enlil and Enki, since the tablet scribes wrote it with the signs Denzu. En was the moon god. Ziu is then understood as En. In Akkadian, Sun was contracted to Sin, Lord Suin. Gudea of Laga in 2100 BC wrote, Suin, whose name no one can interpret, which already hinted at the significance of his name. Inscriptions on the moon god's chest included the cuneiform signs A, one, Im, to run, and Babar, white. In other words, he is known as the white solo runner, based on these three signs. As a result of the Sumerian influence, the moon was given many names. A familiar example is Ud Sa stands for waxing light, or a gradually widening crescent. Bel-Age, the lord of the in Akkadian, refers to the moon's dark side, Agu, the crown. This part of the moon is not illuminated by the sun, but by the reflection of sunlight from the earth. Hymns praise Suin, and compare him to a dragon called the Umgal, also known as Dumuzi. It was not born out of dragons, but from an imperial ruler. However, the moon is positively compared to a roaring dragon. Song of the Emdrum, to Suin in princeliness, heavenly lord, Hu, city, equal sign Ur, that exists from its own essence. Suin, the great ruler of Ur, in full splendor he comes forth from the mountains. Suin, the giant dragon, roars in a towering rage. He has the muzzle of a dragon, and is Ur's city ruler, Ensi. In ancient times, the moon was known as the Bull, because of its golden horn, which was considered a mark of divinity. Bulls found in the royal graves of Ur also wore lapis lazuli beards in images of the moon god Nana. Apparently, a metaphor for divine light is called Malama. Moon was called Mu-6-3, which means shepherd. The Milky Way represented the moon as a bull leading his cattle. New moons are compared to newborn calves, the hope of each shepherd, and his nickname Mumu, eternal renewal, refers to the moon's ability to renew and rejuvenate itself each month, symbolizing new life not only for cattle, but also for fields and people. The planets walked over the dome of heaven without bothering much about their place within the cosmic cattle pen. In Sumer, the planets were called Uduidim, Akkadian Bibu, which means wild sheep. On the other hand, the fixed stars behaved like domesticated cows and sheep, keeping a proper distance from one another. In Egyptian mythology, the Milky Way was attributed to the udders of the heavenly cow, and the name was probably invented by shepherds who compared the Milky Way with the creamy milk of the cows. Several hymns praise the moon's incredible richness, how numerous are the As if they were lapis lazuli, they are black. Like the moonlight emerging, the small ones, you have made like grains, you have made the big ones numerous, like wild bulls. Heaven's pride, he several cows in his magnificent cattle pen have been freed from their tethers. His hands have brought the creamy milk of the cows to the offering table. He has completed his work, my king. A sparkling tether cord tethered the cows. He feeds the cows, and he feeds the cows. His cows are under his care. In a prayer to the lord of the step, his mother, the lady of Nippur, says, I pray for you cow herd. Make your suited step abundant with cows when you come at night. Could you bring them to the holy temple in Ekur? The Akkadian name Suin or Sin is used in this poem. Sin is the well-fed young calf raised on Ninlil's lapis lazuli knees, or the lapis lazuli calf of the Ekur. A hymn celebrates the moon god as the son of Enlil and Ninlil, the parents of the moon god. The temple of Ekur was named for Enlil and Ninlil, the parents of the moon god. As punishment for raping Ninlil, Enlil was sent to the underworld by the assembly of the gods. The moon was born in the underworld, after Ninlil discovered she was pregnant, and followed Enlil. According to people who saw the moon disappear from the sky each month, and told each other that the moon lived in the underworld, this was caused by the moon's movements. The moon reappeared and began to grow again after three days. Enheduanna composed a temple hymn to Ekisnugul, literally the house of great light. A great light was a sobriquet of Nana. This temple is portrayed as a vast cattle pen, Ur full of bulls standing in the cane break, Ekinugul, calf of a great cow, light of the holy of heaven, a cow in the wild, Ur providing food for all lands, Anu's earth where the shrine was built is pure, your banquet hall is filled with Adab songs, house of Suin, your front is a prince, your back is a king, you're holy of holies, without drums and drums, as the sun shines and the light emanates from you and your true enship, it is a mighty grand lofty shrine of the embracing all lands is Ekisnugul, the beaming moonlight. I am your prince, the king who makes decisions, the ruler of the wide heaven, the prince who makes decisions. The house was placed on your dais by the house, and the house has taken its place on your splendor level. The hymn describes Sin as the god of fertility and life, and is dedicated to the moon god. This song may have been sung during Lot's casting, when the god's decisions were indicated on a gaming board, Sir Equal Sign Song, Nam Equal Sign Lot, Sub Equal Sign to Cast, as Sir Nam Sub translates to Song for the Casting of Lots, Sir Equal Sign Song, Nam Equal Sign Lot, Sub Equal Sign to Cast. The song praises the moon god eloquently, exclaiming that his control field encompasses all life. Aside from the rivers, fields, and marshy swamps where reed and fruit trees grow in the has a sphere of influence that includes the rivers. His countless cows produce endless quantities of milk, cream, and cheese. Song for the Casting of Lots to Sin. It is as vast as the heavens, just as it is as vast as the earth. Lord Nanna, as the heavens are vast and as the earth is vast, as vast as the heavens, so wide is the earth. As the shepherd stands at the place where his numerous cows are, from the cattle pen of the shepherd, Suen has his numerous cows. Milk, cheese, and cream are mentioned, and then it continues. When he fills the river with carp, his fields are filled with barley when he grows them. Carp and perch are filled with carp and perch when he fills the marshes. Bullrushes and green reeds fill the marshes when he fills them with them. His forests will be filled with trees, chamois, and mountain sheep. His steps will be filled with marjoram trees. He fills the gardens and fruit trees with syrup and wine when he plants them. The palace is filled with long life when he fills the flowerbeds with salads and garden cress. Then I will live there, on his property, in the brickwork of his city, Ur, in the Dublama, the place of judgment in your storeroom of grapes and syrup, the proper quay, the quay of your magur boat. The exalted house will be my home, Nanna, my beloved home. With your cows, I will live in the upper land near the mountain with sweet-smelling cedar, Lord Nanna. I will live with numerous calves. It is in your Ur that I will live, Nanna. It is a motif in many hymns describing abundance and prosperity. In the Pleiad constellation, the first new moon appears when the sun rises in Taurus, 4000 BC, or Ram, from 2500 BC onwards. It is the first day of Nisan in spring, March or April, and this is the month when the moon god travels with his boat outside Ur to a location where barley is sown, and a rural temple is constructed for Nanna. The sowing season was in spring and harvest time was in autumn. The growth of the crops was most stimulated by his help between sowing and harvesting, Boat God. In his boat, known as the Magur, Ma equal sign boat, Gur equal sign round, the moon transported the prolific yields of the land. The moon's crescent looks like a boat from the earth, and it has the same shape as the Sumerian riverboats when seen from our northern regions. A polyphonic choir may have sung these Sumerian texts during the moon-honoring festivities, and it is easy to hear their rhythm. These days are related to the moon's four phases and are celebrated on the months 1st, 7th, 15th, and 25th. Due to the moon's position, it was relatively easy to determine which day of the week it was. A month later, the moon disappeared, and people mourned its disappearance on the day it disappeared, Bubulu. The moon's return was welcomed as a sign of rebirth and rejuvenation. Even though the sun is already rising in the morning sky to the east when the moon is still visible on the western horizon, the moon always appears complete. At this time, their magical strength was believed to reinforce each other and have a powerful healing effect, making it an appropriate time for a prayer to sin. A migraine sufferer was told on the 15th day, the day that sin and Amr stand together in the sky, full moon, to dress in linen, incise his temple with an obsidian knife, make his blood flow, and the dead spirits would leave him alone. An eel hut would be built for him, and his face would be directed northward. An incense altar of juniper was set up to the west, and cow's milk would be offered as a libation to sin. In the east, he was to set up cypress incense altars, drink beer, and speak as follows, When the full moon set in the west and the sun rose in the east at the moment of prayer, this ceremony would be performed in the early morning. Assyrian hymns describe the moon god's servant and fiancé, the great cow, who played an essential role during childbirth. During labor, the moon cow suffers from heavy, painful contractions caused by an oestrus bull that deflowers the moon cow. To ease the pain of the moon cow, the moon god sends two angels, who descend from heaven and sprinkle water on its body. As Azu, the doctor or magician, assists a woman in labor, he recites the text of this hymn. In magic, the desired effect is achieved by imitation. The doctor conjuring up the details of this myth invokes their work in the human world along the lines of similar events in the world of the gods. Sin is invoked by the Azu to help the woman giving birth, just as he helped the moon cow alleviate her pain and have successful delivery. An Ur-3 period hymn to Sin names her son Amagar, milk calf, in gratitude for the moon god's help during labor. Inanna is sometimes called cow and her cult is devoted to aspects of fertility, like her father Nanna, the moon goddess. A terracotta relief depicting a small shrine and a cow wearing a conicke's mantle was found in a residential area of Aisin, circa 1850 BC. Inanna was the goddess of the holy animal pen. Inanna could be represented by the cow, as suggested by Agnes Spikit. Throughout the Isinlasa period, Idindagan, 1974-1954, calls Venus the good wild cow of heaven, referring to her as the impetuous wild cow. Also referred to as cows, other goddesses, such as Ninsan Gilgamesh's mother, literally mean woman wild cow. It is believed that the cow symbolized fertility and plenty in ancient times, when cattle were such an essential part of daily life, and the terracotta relief with the holy cow in the shrine may have been a general symbol of fecundity, which farmers believed was benign for their livelihood. Although their names probably meant lord heaven and lady heaven in ancient times, we must be aware of myths about Inanna and Nanna. Dumuzi may have replaced the moon god as Inanna's partner, which explains the absence of love lyrics about lord and lady heaven. While there may not be many love songs about Inanna and Ningal, Ningal means literally great lady, and may be a sobriquet of the moon goddess. It is interesting to note that the hymns to the moon god and his spouse resemble Inanna's and Dumuzi's love poems, and Ningal expresses a desire to live with Nanna in one of the love songs, listing cult installations at Ur, where she intends to In your dublama, the place where justice is served, wine and honey are found in the provision house of the moon god. At your true key, the key of the Marga barge, I would dwell in your house of heaven, your beloved house. The giguna is the reed hut at the top of the ziggurat, and Ningal describes it as up above on the mount of fragrant cedar wood, where she says she will sweeten Nanna's bed. Most likely these songs were part of the rite of the sacred marriage. A heavily damaged text has been preserved, which includes a dialogue between Nanna and Ningal, possibly composed by Enheduanna, although its date has yet to be discovered. She asks Ningal if he can accompany her home. This hymn is mentioned on the cuneiform tablets of the lords of Enki as a balbail, harp song, of Nanna. It was vital for the king to worship the moon god, and some kings of the third dynasty of Ur even claimed that sin fathered them. In his boat, the king traveled with the moon god to Nippur to offer the first fruits of the fields to his father, Enlil. Because the moon was so important, an eclipse of the moon was always an evil omen, and during the lunar eclipse, priests sang lamentations, and ordinary people shouted short apotropaic formulas in the hope that the demons threatening the moon would be frightened and sent to flight. In some parts of Africa, women use water vessels to catch the moon's power when the moon has darkened. The vessel is left outside overnight, exposed to the moon's power. This water is said to have magical properties. Nippur's journey through Nanna's eyes. As a result of their thematic similarity, several Sumerian literary compositions have been classified as divine journeys. These tales describe how a city god pays divine honors to the god of a neighboring town, usually a father figure or a higher god. According to the myth of Inanna and Enki, Inanna also traveled by boat to her father, Enki, in Eridu. The moon god Nanna, though, traveled to Nippur to see his father and mother, Enlil and Ninlil, as most gods travel to Nippur to pay their respects to Enlil. On the journey, they sought the blessings of Enlil, which would benefit the city of Ur, the cattle and the crops. The Sumerian pantheon had become dominated by Enlil by the middle of the third millennium, and he delegated his power to the city gods in the Sumerian cities within his sphere of influence, who then passed it on to the city rulers. In sharing it with the land's inhabitants, the city rulers demonstrated the god's support, resulting in affluence and happiness. Ur, poets in the third dynasty of Ur, composed a long hymn about the moon god Nanna's journey to Nippur. Nanna must construct a ceremonial boat for the journey before leaving for Nippur, so he sends people to various places to gather the materials for the construction. Next, he gathers the offerings he will transport to Enlil in his boat, including bulls for the cowpen and fattened sheep for the house, kuda birds, small UBI birds, and other birds and fish. A boat carrying dried fish, porcupines, eggs, and reeds will be brought by him. 600 sheep, 600 she goats, and 600 cows are also collected as breeding animals. In his journey up the Euphrates river, Nanna visits five cities along the riverbanks, Energi, Larsa, Uruk, Urupak, and Tamil. He is welcomed and honoured by the city goddesses with appropriate rites and gifts. For him, they prepare great meals, convince him to stay with them, and release his cargo. He says, I am going to Nippur at every stop. Nippur is Nanna's final destination. The porter shouts, open the house porter, open the house. Kalkal, doorkeeper, open the house. Dormund, doorkeeper, open the house. Porter, open the house. Kalkal, open the house. He enumerates everything he has brought in his boat, which he intends to offer to his father, Enlil. He promises the porter will give him what is left in the prow and the stern as the last offering. Kalkal moves the bolt aside, allowing Nanna to enter. In gratitude for his son's visit and gifts, Enlil prepares a sweet cake, beer, syrup, and clear water dinner. The following year, Nanna asks his father, Enlil, to give him abundant produce, which Enlil gladly does. In Ur, Nanna returns with his boat to his own temple, where he gives the field speckled barley, the marshes kuda and suhur carp, the reed beds fresh reeds, the forests wild rams and ibex, the high plains gurum trees, syrup and wine, and then the king a long and happy life in the palace. Sumer and Ur were destroyed and lamentations were made. During the reign of the last kings of the Ur III dynasty, the happy and abundant life that the moon god endowed the people with was destined not to last forever. After the collapse of Ur III, nothing remained of Neo-Sumerian culture. In five city laments, the Neo-Sumerian empire's collapse has been deplored, and the perplexing question of how it managed to collapse so rapidly and wholly has reverberated through the ages. The last four describe the destruction of a specific city, Ur, Nippur, Eridu and Uruk, while the fifth describes the destruction of Ur and Sumer. All five lamentations are likely connected to the same event, the end of the Sumerian civilization brought about by the destruction of the third dynasty of Ur. These verses are written in Sumerian, but the preserved text date from the early Babylonian period, after Ur III and Isin-Lasa. Ur's end is mourned in lamentation for Sumer and Urim, and the lament for Ur, both known in modern literature. According to both, the tragedy was a catastrophe far beyond a familiar defeat in a war with a neighboring country, as it appeared to have resulted from a decision made by the three main gods of the pantheon, An, Enlil, and Ninhursaga. As a result of the M.E., the cosmic laws of Sumer, it has been determined that Sumer, and more specifically, the town of the moon god Nanna, will be destroyed in the end. This fatal prognostication of the gods is made in the lamentation for Sumer and Urim. A storm will be sent to the land by Enlil, and the gods will recite the list of disasters to befall Sumer. Through 519 verses, the horror of this catastrophe is vividly conjured up before our eyes, as the gods of the land abandon their temples, the town is ravaged by famine, and the storm sweeps away all its inhabitants. In the streets, corpses lie in heaps or float in the Euphrates, and brigands roam the streets. The population has been wiped out, the power has been taken away from its bodies, and the corpses are spread across the streets or floating in the Euphrates. Alone in the palace, Ibi-Sin, the last king of Ur, weeps bitterly in anguish. There is silence in the temple, which used to roar like a bull. The evening meal is defiled in the gods' grand dining hall. The butcher's knife used to slaughter oxen and sheep lies hungry in the grass. There is no longer a smell of roasting meat emanating from the mighty oven. No longer do oxen and sheep cook in it. It is now silted up, boat prows no longer slap against the quayside, and the shining quay of Nanna no longer has the sound of water slapping against it. In Ur, the dogs no longer sniff at the base of the city wall because the cows and their young are captured and taken to enemy territory. People who don't understand butter are churning it, while those who don't understand milk are curdling it. In the cattle pen, there is no noise from the churning vat. Its smoke has been extinguished like a once mighty fire. God Enlil tells his son, the moon god, don't exhaust yourself in vain, abandon your city. Enlil's son visits his father in Nippur to enjoin him to change his fatal decision. The kingship of Ur has once been exercised, but it cannot last, according to Enlil. When was the last time a king reigned forever? Ultimately, Nanna, distraught over his beloved city, moves away from his temple in Ur, and the other gods follow his example. The priestesses are carried off to enemy territory, and the Gipars of the gods are defiled. The moon god, in desperation, drags himself to his father, Enlil, begging him to save his city, and finally, Enlil takes pity on him. It was unexpected for Enlil to decide that Ur would be rebuilt, prosperity would return, and the storm would end. In this lamentation, storms or floods raise Sumer and destroy everything in their path. The forces of nature are metaphors for invading foreign forces such as the Amorites, the Elamites, or the people of Imaiki. Sources from this period confirm that foreign armies demolished the cities of Sumer at the end of the reign of Ur III, and the lamentation mentions that the last ruler of Ur III, Ibi-Sin, was taken in chains to the land of Elam. However, it is essential to understand Michalowski's composition within the context of Isin's historiography and legitimacy. Following the overthrow of Ur III, the Isin dynasty established a new state, and if at the end of the lamentation, the gods decide to rebuild Sumer, it will be under the new regime of the Isin dynasty. However, Van Stifoot disagrees. It is impossible that these lamentations were written to legitimize a new dynastic succession of regimes. Storms are critical and must come with more extraordinary and universal disasters like droughts, famines, and epidemics. Using the term great mortality, he argues that the storm represents the great mortality of the 14th century. It is the death of an era that Van Stifoot laments in these poems, not the deaths of thousands of people. While in the lamentation for Sumer and Urim, there is in the end a glimmer of hope that Ur will be rebuilt, as all the gods have abandoned Ur and Nanna has abandoned his city, there is nothing of the kind in the lament for Ur. Last among the goddesses to witness Ur's last disasters is Ningal, the wife of the moon god. Ningal has been prevented from finding rest in her temple bedroom due to the floodstorm that has ravaged the land. The floodstorm obscured the daylight and swept away its cities, preventing her from finding even the smallest amount of rest. It was as if she were a cow looking for its calf as she trudged across the earth due to the storm. As a result of bitter distress in my city, she says, my city was destroyed from its foundations when I beat my wings like a bird of heaven. My city, Ekisnugul, was destroyed. Wind and rain fell on the denuded harvest ground like a shepherd's sheepfold or a tent. The tree had been uprooted. Despite the devastation caused by the storm, Ningal emphasizes that she has not abandoned her city or given up her land. As she prostrated herself before Ann and Enlil, she pleaded, don't destroy my city. With tears she pleaded, don't destroy Urim. Unfortunately, Ann did not change the word. My heart was not soothed by Enlil. She prostrated herself a second time to Ann and Enlil and stretched out her arms, but it was in vain. Ur's destiny had already been determined. The command of Ann would never be changed and the words of Enlil would not be altered, laments Ningal. Then Enlil hurled a storm that annihilated the land, covering Urim like a garment and spreading over it like linen. Enlil brought him the aid of a fire god. At noon, when the haze lifted, he lit fires. In combination with storm, he captured the dawn and the rising sun. The brilliant sunrise was not the evening star on the land. A fantastic night redoubled the south wind. As the potsherds scorched, dust was glowing. Elamites are usually assumed to have invaded Sumer and Ur, but the lamentations describe a natural flood and tsunami followed by a terrible drought. There was no war in the land when the lamentations were written, but a great natural catastrophe had already devastated the land before the Elamites entered. Kinnear Wilson argues that the storm appearing in all five lamentations is not symbolic, but rather an actual natural disaster. In his translation, which differs from the ETCSL and Roma, the verses say, People had been piled in heaps on the dancing ground. Khiyam and Kalam-Ma was a mess of people piled high. A molten metal had drained their lifeblood. Their flesh had dissolved into the sun like fat. Unlike men killed by hatches, they had slid into the dust like gazelles caught in a trap. Those who might have bled from spear wounds weren't bandaged. They lay as naked as when they were born as they died. They were not covered in shrouds, unlike those clubbed to death. There was crying among the people. Their necks were thrown over their shoulders, but not as if they had taken a drink. A man who resisted the drought was struck down by weapons. The people had cried, The drought will have overcome him if he has spared the weapons. But in Ur, solid and weak people died slowly from the famine. The heat killed parents, who could not leave their families. As if devoid of water, one child lay on its mother's lap, surrounded by the strong arms of a nurse. Our land has lost its moral standing, cried the people. They cried, The moral judgments of the land have drained away, people cried out. The mother abandoned her daughter. His father has turned away from him, cried the people. However, the enemy was denied profits as housewives and servants died in the city. Would the blackheads have been better off in servitude with them? The moon goddess left her temple as well. The house has exiled me. I have no place to live. Despite my high head, I sit in a strange city with her crying. I sit as a stranger with my head held high. I am one of the prisoners in a debtor's prison who cannot make extravagant claims. She weeps bitterly. Using large axes, all the treasures of the land were utterly destroyed. The people who destroyed it estimated the object's value at 30 shekels. Pickaxes were used to break up the good house. The city was reduced to ruins, and Ningal lamented, Alas, my city. Goddesses cry. In flight her possessions have risen like rooks, she laments. My silver has been filled by the hands of men who are ignorant of silver. My gems have been fastened around the necks of men ignorant of gems. She cries, Alas, my city, as she pulls at her hair as if it were like a holy drum. A lamentation singer laments the goddess's bitter sorrow. There are echoes of the great weeping ritual in these lines. The goddess bemoaned endlessly during the lamentation, Queen, how is your heart? How have you changed? I wonder how Ningal's heart is doing. What a difference you've made. Having lost your city, how do you survive? How is your heart, O Ningal, whose homeland has perished? In the aftermath of the destruction of your city, how do you survive? When your house is destroyed, how does your heart feel? Suddenly, an antiphony sounds, asking the goddess what she should do now that her city is lost. How can you survive without your own priest? Some aspects of Father Nanna's holy supplications could be better. Osgar priests who value purification rites do not perform purification rites for you. In your holy Giguna shrine, your luma priest does not wear linen. You chose in your sincere heart a righteous end priest who goes from the shrine to the Gipar, not with joy. No festivals are celebrated in your house by the Awa priests. You will not hear them play the electric or classical music that soothes the heart. People with blackheads do not bathe during your festivals. There has been a decree of mourning for them, which has resulted in a change in their appearance. Before you, your tigi music has turned into lamentation. How long will this last? How long will this weeping last before your song is turned into weeping? The fat of your bull has yet to be prepared for you. It has yet to be brought into its pen. Its milk is not abundant for you. It does not live in its fold. When will your milk carrier return to the sheepfold? How long will it take before your fat carrier comes to you from the cow pen? A fisherman carrying fish has been seized by an evildoer. How long will this last? When your fowler was carrying birds, lightning carried him off. How long will this last? Mountain thorn bushes grow on your roads built initially for wagons, and team plants grow in the middle of your watercourses that were once suitable for barges. It is heartbreaking to hear the lamentation. Everything that had once been part of the wealth of Ur and its temple and is now lost is enumerated. In the end Ningal also flees, and the lamentations beg her to return like a bull to your cattle pen, like a sheep to your fold, to exercise her enship again. The moon god must also return to Ur and accept their humble prayers. The catastrophe was of such overwhelming power that it could only have occurred in the absence of the moon god, who had kept aloof from the supplications of Ningal to save his city, and seemed almost powerless to do anything against the will of his father, Enlil. The hymn interprets the disaster as an inscrutable decision by all the gods, including their city god Nanna, to harm the city of Ur. The verses endeavour to put into words the utterly unpredictable course of nature, with all at the mercy of the caprice of the gods, and even Nanna dependent on the whims of his father, Enlil. In the end, people could do nothing but seek the aid of Ningal, who had stayed in the city and had twice implored Enlil to concern himself with the fate of her city. Inasmuch as the events are a description of an absolute disaster that had befallen Ur, the loyalty of Ningal must have given the survivors of the catastrophe, and those who were listening to the hymn, some consolation. Ur never recovered from its ashes after the old Babylonian period. The city of the moon god had perished forever, just as the god Enlil had decreed.