Cuneiform 102 · Chapter 05

Warm-up · 6 quick retrievals from earlier chapters
  1. 𒉈 [ne] — what does it mean?

    brazier · NE · brazier/fire; [ne]

  2. go — draw it, then check

    𒁺 [du] · DU · to go; a foot/leg in origin

  3. 𒉆 — read it

    [nam]fate · NAM · fate, destiny; abstract-noun prefix

  4. 𒁕 [da] — what does it mean?

    side · DA · side; [da] (comitative in context)

  5. levee — draw it, then check

    𒂊 [e] · E · [e]; as a word, levee/ditch

  6. 𒁾 — read it

    [dub]tablet · DUB · (clay) tablet

A dedication, whole

Five chapters have handed you a sentence’s skeleton, a hidden case, a way to multiply nouns and verbs, and a rebus that turns “arrow” into “life.” This chapter adds a final batch of two signs — and then spends its grammar bite doing something every chapter so far has been building toward: putting together, sign by sign, the single phrase that closes more Sumerian votive inscriptions than any other.

Two new signs

SignNameKeyReadsMeansNotes
𒎏NINlady[nin] lady, queen, mistress the female counterpart to en and lugal
𒆷LAabundance[la] [la]; abundance the spelling glue of this chapter's formula

Five times each, aloud as you write: nin, la. That closes the batch, and with it the sixth.

Grammar bite — the dedication formula, assembled

Sumerian votive objects — statues, mace-heads, foundation cones, whole temples — tend to say the same kind of thing, in the same order:

[deity’s name] — [donor’s name + titles] — [purpose] — [verb]

A god or goddess named first, a donor named and titled second, a reason given third, and a verb (“dedicated,” “built,” “fashioned”) closing it, last, the way this course’s very first grammar bite promised a Sumerian verb always would. The purpose slot is overwhelmingly one phrase: nam-ti-la-ni-še3, “for his life.” Every sign in it is now something you own.

𒉆𒋾𒆷𒉌𒂠

nam- ti -la -ni -še3

The template, assembled from your own inventory — not quoted from any one tablet; you will meet it verbatim on real votive objects in a later chapter. Sign by sign: 𒉆 nam- (abstraction, ch. 03) + 𒋾 ti (life, ch. 04's rebus) + 𒆷 -la (spelling glue for the /l/) + 𒉌 -ni ("his/her") + 𒂠 -še3 ("for," ch. 01) — "for his life."

Read it as a chain, the way you now read any Sumerian word: the abstraction-maker turns “life” into “life-ness,” a spelling vowel carries the /l/ into the next syllable, “his” attaches, and the terminative tag you met in chapter 01 aims the whole thing at its purpose. And that -ni is no stranger: it is chapter 01’s -ani, “his/her,” traveling light — after a vowel the tag’s own /a/ merges away, and only -ni surfaces in the spelling. One honest loose end: -la- here is a spelling phenomenon, not a word of its own — the grammars explain it as writing out the final consonant of til, the fuller shape behind ti, so that -ni has a consonant to land on. One sentence, no deeper; the standard grammars carry the rest.

The scribes’ own god, in two signs

Chapter 02 promised its 𒀝 had one more surprise. The AK sign moonlights. In later periods the god Nabû — patron of scribes, divine custodian of libraries, and the namesake of the Nabu library every reading on this site comes from — is regularly written with exactly this sign, behind the silent divine star you have known since 101:

𒀭𒀝

{d}AK — Nabû, as the standard sign lists record the common first-millennium writing. Two signs, both yours: the patron of everyone who has ever done this course's homework.

Reading: lady and knowing

A last name from the same Early Dynastic name lists that have supplied every reading so far — this one built squarely on the sign this chapter opened with:

𒎏𒀀𒍪nin-a-zuNin-azu — a divine/personal name built on "lady" and "knowing" (approximate; a god Ninazu is well known in the pantheon)
Fs Unger 33–34, ED IIIa (ca. 2600–2500 BCE), Šuruppak (mod. Fara)? CDLI P010068 via Nabu, urn:nabu:cdli:p010068 · license: attribution. Name translations are approximate by nature.

Nin opens it exactly the way it opens a thousand goddess names; a, water, and a sign for knowing close it. Whether the bearer was named for the god or the god took the name first is the kind of question these lists never quite settle — but the reading itself, after six batches, needs no box.

What comes next is exactly what these chapters have been pointing at: a later chapter returns to read real votive inscriptions verbatim — the formula above quoted from actual stone and clay, not assembled for a lesson — to unmask the genitive’s hidden consonant properly, and to take the verbal chain’s silhouette apart piece by piece. Batches will keep coming the same computed way; grammar will keep arriving only when a reading demands it.

Drill before the pause

  1. Write 𒎏 and 𒆷 from memory; say nin, la.
  2. Recite the dedication template’s four slots in order, then write nam-ti-la-ni-še3 from memory, sign by sign.
  3. Say aloud what each of the five signs in that formula meant before it joined this phrase — an abstraction-maker, an arrow turned rebus, a spelling vowel, a possessive, a terminative tag — and notice that none of that history has vanished; it is just doing new work.

The next chapter picks up from here.

Read it cold

This chapter's last reading, once more — script only. Read it aloud before you unfold.

Check yourself
𒎏𒀀𒍪nin-a-zuNin-azu — a divine/personal name built on "lady" and "knowing" (approximate; a god Ninazu is well known in the pantheon)
Fs Unger 33–34, ED IIIa (ca. 2600–2500 BCE), Šuruppak (mod. Fara)? CDLI P010068 via Nabu, urn:nabu:cdli:p010068 · license: attribution. Name translations are approximate by nature.