A band of chosen men there fight to die,
Before their enemies disdain to fly;
The _masari_[22] within the breach thus died,
And with their dying shout the foe defied.
The foes swarm through the breach and o'er the walls,
And Erech in extremity loud calls
Upon the gods for aid, but prays for naught,
While Elam's soldiers, to a frenzy wrought,
Pursue and slay, and sack the city old
With fiendish shouts for blood and yellow gold.
Each man that falls the foe decapitates,
And bears the reeking death to Erech's gates.
The gates are hidden 'neath the pile of heads
That climbs above the walls, and outward spreads
A heap of ghastly plunder bathed in blood.
Beside them calm scribes of the victors stood,
And careful note the butcher's name, and check
The list; and for each head a price they make.
Thus pitiless the sword of Elam gleams
And the best blood of Erech flows in streams.
From Erech's walls some fugitives escape,
And others in Euphrates wildly leap,
And hide beneath its rushes on the bank
And many 'neath the yellow waters sank.

The harper of the Queen, an agèd man,
Stands lone upon the bank, while he doth scan
The horizon with anxious, careworn face,
Lest ears profane of Elam's hated race
Should hear his strains of mournful melody: