I was recently reminded of this wonderful Akkadian poem. Pretty sure the copyright has lapsed, so I thought I'd post it here. It's quite a staggering piece of magic.
The Seven
They are 7 in number, just 7
In the terrible depths they are 7
Bow down, in the sky they are 7
In the terrible depths, the dark houses
They swell, they grow tall
They are neither female or male
They are a silence heavy with seastorms
They bear off no women their loins are empty of children
They are strangers to pity, compassion is far from them
They are deaf to men’s prayers, entreaties can’t reach them
They are horses that grow to great size, that feed on mountains
They are the enemies of our friends
They feed on the gods
They tear up the highways they spread out over the roads
They are the faces of evil they are the faces of evil
They are 7 they are 7 they are 7 times 7
In the name of Heaven let them be torn from our sight
In the name of the Earth let them be torn from our sight
--tr. Jerome K. Rothenberg
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