Tablet XI of the Epic of Gilgamesh contains the oldest flood narrative in world literature, predating the Genesis account by at least a millennium. The hero Gilgamesh, devastated by the death of his companion Enkidu and terrified by the prospect of his own mortality, travels to the edge of the world to find Utnapishtim, the one mortal who was granted immortality by the gods.
Utnapishtim tells Gilgamesh how the gods decided to destroy humanity with a great flood, and how Ea (the god of wisdom) secretly warned him to build a boat and save his family and “the seed of all living creatures.” The parallels with the later Genesis narrative are striking: the boat, the flood, the birds sent out to find dry land, the offering on the mountain, the divine promise never to destroy humanity again. These parallels have been debated since George Smith first translated this tablet at the British Museum in 1872, electrifying the Victorian world.
But the Gilgamesh flood story is not Genesis. It exists in a radically different theological framework. The gods of Mesopotamia are not omnipotent or omniscient. They quarrel, they regret, they are disturbed by the noise of humanity. Enlil destroys the world not out of moral judgment but because humans are too loud. When the flood recedes, the gods gather “like flies” around Utnapishtim's offering because they are hungry. And the immortality that Utnapishtim receives is not a reward for righteousness but a unique dispensation, granted once and never again. When Gilgamesh asks for the same gift, he is refused. The tablet ends with the most ancient meditation on mortality in all of literature.
The text presented here is from the Standard Babylonian version (7th century BCE library of Ashurbanipal at Nineveh, now in the British Museum), transliterated from cuneiform. The Akkadian is given in standard Assyriological transliteration.
Gilgāmeš ana šāšu izākara ana Ūta-napištim rūqi attālka Ūta-napištim ul tēmēka attā kīma yāti attā tēmēka libbī ibšīma ana epēš tahāzi attā ina aḫiška tuštammā kī taškunū kīma yāti attā mindēma ina puhur ilī balāṭam taltāqam Ūta-napištim ana šāšu izākara ana Gilgāmeš luptēka Gilgāmeš amata nisīrti pīrišti ilī kāša luqābika
Gilgamesh spoke to him, to Utnapishtim the far-distant:
“I look at you, Utnapishtim, and your appearance is no different. You are like me. You yourself are not different. You are like me. My heart had expected to find you ready for battle, but you lie on your back, idle. Tell me: how did you come to stand in the assembly of the gods and find life everlasting?”
Utnapishtim spoke to him, to Gilgamesh:
“I will reveal to you, Gilgamesh, a secret thing, a mystery of the gods I will tell you.”
Šuruppak ālu ša tīdūšu attā šakin ina ah Purātti šū ālu labīrišūma ilū ina libbima ibbaššū abūbu epēša ilū rabûtu anu abūšun ina libbima qārrādu Ellil malkuma sukkallušun Ninurta gugallušun Ennugi Ninšikū-Ea ittišunuma itāmā iqabbiam ana kikkisu kikkisa kikkisa igara igara kikkisa šimīma igara usuškil ammī mār Šuruppak mār Ubar-Tutu quššē bīta epūš elippa mukūš bušāa šī napištā bušāa zūr napištā liqqe zēr napištāti mimmamušu šūli ana libbi elippi
“The city Shuruppak, a city that you know, set on the banks of the Euphrates: that city was already old when the gods within it decided that the great gods should make a flood. There was Anu their father, the counsellor Enlil the warrior, their chamberlain Ninurta, their canal-officer Ennugi. Ninshiku-Ea was also present with them. He repeated their words to the wall of reeds:
‘Wall of reeds, wall of reeds! Wall of mud-brick, wall of mud-brick! Wall of reeds, listen! Wall of mud-brick, consider! Man of Shuruppak, son of Ubar-Tutu: tear down your house, build a boat, abandon your possessions, seek life! Reject worldly goods and keep your soul alive! Load the seed of every living creature into the boat.’
The boat that you are to build, let her dimensions be measured: let her breadth and length be equal. Roof her over like the watery depths.
I understood and spoke to Ea, my lord: ‘The command, my lord, that you have given, I will honor and carry out.’”
mimmu išū šūšūma ina libbima mimmu išū kaspa šūšūma ina libbima mimmu išū hurāṣa šūšūma ina libbima mimmu išū zēr napištāti kalama šūšūma ina libbima kimī u qinnīā ana libbi elippi ūšēli būl ṣēri ummām ṣēri kalama mār ummāni kalama ušēli
“Whatever I had I loaded aboard her. Whatever I had of silver I loaded aboard her. Whatever I had of gold I loaded aboard her. Whatever I had of the seed of all living creatures I loaded aboard her. I brought up into the boat my whole family and kin. The beasts of the field, the creatures of the wild, all the craftsmen I brought aboard.
Shamash had set the appointed time: ‘In the morning I will rain down upon you a bread of sorrow, in the evening a wheat of woe. Enter the boat and close the door.’
That time arrived. I watched the weather in dread. The day was fearful to behold. I entered the boat and closed the door. I looked at the weather. It was terrifying to behold.”
6 urrī u 7 mušāti ilaku šāru abūbu meḫū da’āmu išabbaṭ māta ultu ṣebē ūmu iṣṣeḥā muḫḫū abūbu taḫāḥti ša kīma ālittu ištānaḥḥat imtāšār tāmtu ištaqqu šāru abūbu ikkala attālam uḫmu kališ šubtu tenūštāti kalama ana ṭīṭi tūr
“For six days and seven nights the wind blew, the deluge and the tempest overwhelmed the land. When the seventh day arrived, the storm and the deluge ceased their battle, which had struggled like a woman in labour. The sea grew calm, the storm was still, the flood ceased.
I looked at the weather. Stillness reigned. All of humanity had turned to clay. The landscape was flat as a rooftop. I opened a window, and light fell on my face. I knelt down and sat and wept. Tears ran down my cheeks.
I looked for shorelines at the edge of the sea: at a distance of twelve leagues, land emerged. On Mount Nimush the boat ran aground. Mount Nimush held the boat and would not let it move.”
ultu ṣebē ūmu iṣṣeḥā summata ušēṣima aṭṭardā summatu iṭṭardam itūramma manzaltu la naṭātša itūram itūma sinunna ušēṣima aṭṭardā sinunna iṭṭardam itūramma manzaltu la naṭātša itūram itūma āriba ušēṣima aṭṭardā āribu illikamma nagab mê imūram ikkulam itādar ipparšidūma ul itūram ūšēṣima ana 4 šārī niqiam aqqī aqūšuma kispa ina muhhima zūquri 7 u 7 adagurrī ukin ina šaplattima atabbak qanū erena u asa ilū iṣṣinū erīša ilū iṣṣinū erīša ṭāba ilū kīma zumbi imtaqquṭu ana muqqī zābihi
“When the seventh day arrived, I sent out a dove. The dove went out and returned. There was no place to rest, so it came back to me. I sent out a swallow. The swallow went out and returned. There was no place to rest, so it came back to me. I sent out a raven. The raven went out and saw that the waters had receded. It ate, it circled, it bobbed and strutted, and did not come back to me.
I brought out an offering and made a sacrifice on the mountaintop. Seven and seven I set up cult vessels. Into their bowls I heaped reeds, cedarwood, and myrtle. The gods smelled the savour. The gods smelled the sweet savour. The gods gathered like flies around the one making the offering.”
ultu illīku Ellil īmurma elippa imtali Ellil aggiš ana ilī Īgīgī mānnu napištu ūṣīma ay imūt amu ina abūbi Ninurta pāšu īpušamma iqabbi ana qarādi Ellil manu šanamma ina Ea amata ūšabbū Ea pāšu īpušamma iqabbi ana qarādi Ellil attā appī ilī qārrādu kīām la taḫḫāšamma abūba tēpuš bēl ḫiṭṭīšu ḫiṭṭašu šukun bēl gillišu gillata šukun ummišma ay ibāttēq uttērma ay iḫaliq
“As soon as the great goddess arrived, she lifted up the great necklaces that Anu had made for her pleasure: ‘O gods, by the lapis lazuli on my neck, I shall remember these days and never forget them! Let the gods come to the offering, but let Enlil not come, because he was not reasonable: he brought about the flood and consigned my people to destruction.’
When Enlil arrived and saw the boat, Enlil was furious. He was filled with rage against the gods: ‘Some living being has escaped! No man was to survive the destruction!’
Ninurta opened his mouth and spoke to the warrior Enlil: ‘Who but Ea could devise such a thing? Ea alone knows every craft.’
Ea opened his mouth and spoke to the warrior Enlil: ‘You, the wisest of the gods, warrior: how could you be so unreasonable as to bring about a flood? Punish the sinner for his sin. Punish the transgressor for his transgression. But be merciful, so that he is not cut off. Be patient, so that he is not destroyed.’”
Ellil īšṭiš īli elippi ṣabtu qātī ušēlanni ušēliamma sinništī ušabrik ina idāya immešīma ţţibbirannīma ikārabānni panānumma Ūta-napištim amilu inanna Ūta-napištim u sinništassu lū ēmūū kīma ilīni anaḥnīti lū āšib Ūta-napištim ina rūqi ina pī nārāti ilḥqūninnima ina rūqi ina pī nārāti ušēšibūninni
inanna attā mannū ilī upahharākka balāṭa ša tašaḥḥū attā tammār alka 6 urrī u 7 mušāti lā taṣallal
kī ušēšibšu ina birkēšu šuttu kīma imbāri inanappaḥšu
“Then Enlil came up into the boat. He took me by the hand and brought me up, and brought my wife up and made her kneel beside me. He touched our foreheads, standing between us, and blessed us:
‘Previously Utnapishtim was a mortal man. Now let Utnapishtim and his wife become like the gods, like us. Let Utnapishtim dwell in the distance, at the mouth of the rivers.’
They took me and settled me in the distance, at the mouth of the rivers.
But now, who will assemble the gods for you, that you may find the life you seek? Come, do not sleep for six days and seven nights.”
But as Gilgamesh sat there on his haunches, sleep breathed over him like a mist.