Cuneiform 102 · Chapter 09

Let me eat, let me drink

Chapter 08 took the verbal chain apart into rings. This chapter adds the rings that make Sumerian wish — and then reads the oldest recorded version of a sentiment every student of every era has shared at the end of a school day. First, the batch.

Batch ten

Write each five times, saying ša₃, niŋ₂, ha. The fish is the most honest picture left in your inventory; enjoy it.

Grammar bite — the wish rings

Chapter 08’s prefixes reported facts: i₃-, in-, ba- say that something happened; nu- says it did not. Sumerian has two more rings for things that have not happened but should:

• ga- — “let me, let us”: the speaker volunteers. You have owned the sign 𒂵GA · [ga] · milk; [ga] since chapter 02; here it takes up its grammatical job. ga-gu₇ — “let me eat.”
• ha- — “may he, may it”: a wish aimed outward, at someone else’s action or at the world. This chapter’s new 𒄩HA · [ha] · the fish pictogram; the wish-prefix ha- is its usual spelling. The grammars file these under cohortativethe verb form that says "let me / let us" — a wish the speaker makes about their own action; Sumerian fronts the verb with ga- (ga-) and precativethe verb form that says "may he, may it be so" — a wish aimed at someone else's action; Sumerian fronts the verb with ha-, Akkadian with l-: liṭīb, "may it be well" (ha-); the plain sense — “let me” versus “may it be” — is all this course needs.

Concrete and holdable: ga-gu₇ “let me eat” is a wish you make about yourself; a blessing like “may the king live” runs on ha-. Both rings sit exactly where chapter 08 taught prefixes to sit — in front of everything else.

The oldest after-school sentence

Now the star reading. On an Early Dynastic tablet from the Šuruppak school milieu — among the oldest legible literature anywhere — a pair of lines runs:

Every ring is one you own: ga- “let me,” then the verb doubled — chapter 03’s doubling, meaning again and again, thoroughly. Mouth (𒅗KA · [ka] · mouth) with bread in it eats; mouth with water in it drinks — you have known both compound signs since 101’s sign workshop. Four and a half thousand years later, the sentence still translates itself.

And check the citation: this is the very tablet — the same two entries — that chapter 02 read as milk names, 𒂵GA · [ga] · milk; [ga] the milk jug plus eat, plus drink. That chapter told you to hold the milk loosely; here is why. Now that you own ga- the ring, a second reading opens: not “milk, eat, eat” but “let me eat and eat” — a wish, worn as a name. Which did the parents mean? Both readings are live, and a Fara name can carry the pun entire; editors keep them approximate for exactly this reason. What is certain is what changed: the clay did not. You did — and the same three signs now say more to you than they did seven chapters ago.

Things, given and owned

The thing-maker earns its wedges on the receipts. The single commonest niŋ₂-word in the accounts is this one:

Notice the spread: the gift list is Early Dynastic, the field and the receipt are Ur III — five hundred years apart, and šu ba-ti has not moved a wedge. Administrative Sumerian is the most conservative dialect ever written.

What the heart knows

Two wisdom lines to close, from the literary side — where 𒊮ŠA₃ · [ša] · heart, midst, mood does its deepest work:

Piece by piece — first line:

• ša₃-bi — “its heart”: this chapter’s 𒊮ŠA₃ · [ša] · heart, midst, mood wearing chapter 01’s -bi, the “its” of things — look back for the owner, and the owner is a god’s unknowable mind.
• nu-zu — “not known”: chapter 08’s nu- flat against the knowing 𒍪ZU · [zu] · to know; the -zu of "your" — the exact pattern of that chapter’s “hero unknown.”

And the second:

• niŋ₂ ak-zu — “the things you do”: the thing-maker, plus chapter 02’s ak, “to do,” plus the suffix -zu, “your” — the knowing-sign’s second job that chapter 07 named.
• a-ba — “who?”: the question word, bare.
• i₃-zu-zu — chapter 08’s i₃- ring on a doubled zu: “will really know.”

Notice 𒍪ZU · [zu] · to know; the -zu of "your" working both its jobs in one line: suffix “your” at the start, verb “know” at the end. Every ring, every doubling, every case in these sentences is one this course handed you on purpose.

Drill before you go on

1. Write 𒊮ŠA₃ · [ša] · heart, midst, mood, 𒃻GAR · [niŋ] · thing, property; to place, 𒄩HA · [ha] · the fish pictogram; the wish-prefix ha- from memory; say ša₃, niŋ₂, ha.
2. Read both proverb lines cold, covering translit and gloss.
3. Compose, in transliterationthe sign-by-sign rendering of ancient writing in modern letters, so every sign stays accountable, “let me know” on the pattern of ga-gu₇ — then write it in signs. (Two signs, both old.)
4. Explain the difference between ga- and ha- in one sentence each, with an example wish for each.
5. What are the two jobs of 𒃻GAR · [niŋ] · thing, property; to place in this chapter? Name the reading that shows each.

Next: how hymns and epics breathe — “in those distant days,” true lords, true houses, and the register where Sumerian goes solemn.