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Mar 13, 2018

Posted at 13:38h in Rare Books by
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“The white-haired Ziusudra gazes dreaming out to sea. Above his white head, the tall palms dream also, Undulating slowly the green indolence of their leaves. The old man remembers Long days, long since, when he watched other waves Heaving like these, heaving onward eternally, Yet never breaking On any earthly shore; For earth...

Mar 08, 2018

Posted at 17:28h in Rare Books by
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“Ishtar cried out… Six days and seven nights the wind shrieked, the stormflood rolled through the land. On the seventh day of its coming the stormflood broke from the battle… The word sea grew quiet, the storm was still; the Flood stopped. All of humanity was turned to clay. I crouched, sitting, and wept. My...