A version in Scots of a Sumerian hymn to the goddess of love and war, attributed to the priestess Enheduanna of Ur (fl. 2255 BCE), the world’s earliest identifiable author. As well as praising the nurturing but also terrifying and vengeful goddess, daughter of the moon, the poem inveighs against the rebel King Lu-gal-an-ne, who has flung Enheduanna out of the goddess’s temple.

Leddy o aa the airts, aye-bleezin licht, Gracie and lowin, luved by Heivin and Erd, Gaird o the Heich Shrine, wi yir lang braw robe, Fain o the richt gowd circlet o the priesthuid, Wha’s haun has won aa o the seivin airts, My Leddy, gaird o ivry unco airt! Ye’ve gaithered the airts, ye’ve held them in yir haun, Ye’ve braided the airts, smooricht thaim tae yir breist.

Draigon-lik ye’ve pushionit the merse, Yir thunnery rair wedes aa the flooirs awa, Fleet wattir hurlygushin fae the muntain, Foremaist Muin-Dochter, Queen o Heivin an Erd. Ootpoorin fluffed flames doon aa ower the laund, Graced wi the Heich God’s airts, baist-muntit Leddy, Ye gie deliverances as the Heich God bids; Ye awn grand rites – and wha can ken whit’s yours?

O malafoosterer o launds, scowe-weengit, Enlil’s beluivit, ye flichter ower the merse, Meenister o the Heich God’s strang decreets, O Leddy, at your soun the launds boo doon. Whan mankind passes unnerneath yir een, Frichtit and tremmlin at yir roilin bleeze, Frae ye they get the upcome they deserve: Wi sangs o scronach they brak doon and greit; They trek tae ye alang the peth o souchs.

At the hert o the fecht aa are strick doon by ye, Weenged woman, Leddy, whittlin doon the laund, Claithed in a chairgin stour ye chairge aheid, Lik a blatterin, bleesterin roil ye rair and rair, Dunnerin on for aye wi’oot an en, Wi aa the wicked wunds ye snocher on – Yir feet are fu o a grit fit o the fykes, Wi a hairp o souchs ye lowse a coronach.

O Leddy, aa aroon the michtie gods Bawkie-lik flit afore ye tae the clifts; Tae feart tae gang aneath yir frichtsome een, They daurna gang afore yir coontenance. Wha can mak licht yir hert whan it gaes gyte? Yir gey ill-hertit hert is past aa lichtin, Leddy wha suiths the reins, wha gleds the hert, Leddy wha’s birse is up, Muin’s auldest dochter! Leddy wha bears the gree for aye ower aa.

If a muntain disnae praise ye its flooirs drap deid. Its muckle gowl ye hae dinged doon tae ess. Bluid fluids its stricks, its fowk hae nocht tae drink. Unbid, it maks its airmies yir ain slaves. Unbid, for ye it lowses aa its sodjers. Unbid, for ye aa its hail youths parawd. A blowt maks mice feet o the ceety’s dancin. It herds its flooir o youth oot as yir slaves.

Ower the ceety that’s nae deponed, ‘The laund is yirs,’ That’s nae deponed, ‘It belangs tae yir begetter,’ Ye’ve speakit yir halie biddin, ye’ve flang it oot, Ye’ve made its kye aa cursit in its byres. Its lass has nae luve-wurds noo for her man. At nicht they lie lik corps in their ain bed. Nae langer she shaws him her inmaist traisures … Ramstam wull baist, great Dochter o the Muin, Leddy abune, wha cuid na-say ye wirship?

Ye o richt airts, aamichtie queen o queens, Soverane abune yir mither’s halie wame, Auld i the horn, Leddy abune aa launds, Fowks’ nouricer, I’ve sang yir halie sang. Goddess, fit for aa airts, it’s blythe tae hymn ye, Kind, bricht, guid woman, aa yir airts I’ve sang!

I, Enheduanna, heich priestess, Had gane in ben my sacred shrine for ye, Cairryin the halie skep, I sang the sang, But noo, flang oot, I can nae langer bide Wi ye: at peip o’ day my licht gangs daurk, Noo peip o day means shaddaes, mirk and roil. My hinnied mou is tint, aa’s tapsalteerie, My brawest pairts are noo aa turned tae stour.

Whit’s he tae me, O Muin, this rebel King Wha caas hissel King Lu-gal-an-ne-mundu? Cry tae the Heich God, ‘Heich God, let me gae!’

Cry tae the Heich God, ‘Noo!’ and God will lowse me. This woman wull win abune Lu-gal-an-ne’s manheid. Muntain and fleet are lyin at her feet. Yon woman, heich as he, will mak the ceety Gie him up. She tae will dill her tirr. Sae noo let me, Enheduanna, pray Tae her wi tears like wine, tae the Muin’s Dochter, The halie yin, let me cry ‘Hail’ tae her!

I cannae slock the will o Ashimbabbar. Lu-gal-an-ne has befyled the Heich God’s rites. Lu-gal-an-ne’s snatched the Heich God’s shrine. Lu-gal-an-ne disnae ken whit’s fit for gods. The shrine o bricht aye-bidin luveliness Is aa defylit noo and brocht tae dirt. Moon’s Dochter, halie wull baist, ding him doon, Yon Lu-gal-an-ne, mairriage-messer, swick.

In the halie grainery’s hert whit am I? I? Uruk rebels agin yir Muin – nae way! Uruk maun be dinged doon by the Heich God! May it be jeedged, let Enlil jeedge it noo! May its cryin bairns nae be soothered by their mithers! O Leddy, the hairp o murnin’s in the dirt. Yir bait o murnin’s steekit on furrin strands. Noo at my halie sang they’re clair tae die.

Yet for masel, ma Muin is deef tae me. Ma Muin’s forleet me here tae crockaneetion. Ashimbabbar’s nae mintit ma decree. Gin he had, I widnae care, I widnae care. I wha aince ran his shrine he’s flang ootby Tae flit oot throuch his winnock lik a swalla, Tae traipse throuch muntain brammles. Ma life’s dune. He snapped awa ma heich priestess’s croon. He gied me dirk and swurd, seyin, ‘Yon’s yir lot.’

Maist praicious Leddy, luved by the Heich God, Yir hert is grand, O ease yir hert towart me, Beluvit bride o yon Ushumgalanna, Ye bear the gree as queen o Heivin’s launds. The ither gods have cruiked ther hochs tae ye. Frae howdiein ye aye were the ‘wee’ queen, And noo ye’re soverane owre the muckle gods Wha kiss the mool in reverence tae ye. But ma decree’s nae clair – I fear the warst. I pray nae langer at the auld shrine’s sait. Nae langer noo I kythe halie decreets, Tho I am still the Muin’s bricht heich priestess, O queen luved by the Heich God, peetie me!

Yon Lu-gal-an-ne hasnae ivver sang The Muin’s great sang, he hasnae ivver sang The ‘Aa tak tent!’ the ‘Herk!’ the ‘Aa is yours!’ That ye are heich as Heivin lat aa tak tent! That ye are braid as Erd lat aa tak tent! That ye blast rebel launds lat aa tak tent! That ye rair at the laund lat aa tak tent! That ye ding doon faes’ heids lat aa tak tent! That yer gams devoor faes’ banes lat aa tak tent! That yer glent maks aa fair fleggit lat aa tak tent! That ye heeze yer frichtsome glisk lat aa tak tent! That yer glent is aye fire-flaucht lat aa tak tent! That ye ill-will yon ill-daers lat aa tak tent! That fur aye ye bear the gree lat aa tak tent! Yon yin hasnae sang the Muin’s great sang That maks ye, O my Leddy, soverane.

The halie fire is sperkit, the bride-chaumer’s Clair for ye noo, O ease, O ease yir hert Wi ‘This’ll dae! Eneuch!’ I hae gied birth, O Leddy on heich, tae this, yir halie sang, This sang I sang tae ye at daurk midnicht – May the singer sing the sang agane at nuin! Owre the heid o yir grippit spouse, yir grippit bairn, Yir birse is up the mair, yir hert uneasit.

The forehand leddy, gaird o the heich throne, Has accepit aa her offerins and the hert O the Muin’s Dochter is agane restorit. The day was cannie for her, claithed in licht, Lik the licht o the risin Muin, sae brawly cled! Whan the Muin kythit, clair for aa tae ken, Aa blessit then the Muin’s Dochter’s great mither, And aa at Heeivin’s gate stuid cryin, ‘AA HAIL!’

Sae for her sang the priestess was restorit, Aa praise tae her wha hes dinged doon the launds, And hauds the airts as gifts frae the Heich God, Leddy cled in aa brawness, the Muin’s Dochter.