"Fearing death I roam over the steppe;
The matter of my friend rests heavy upon me.
How can I be silent? How can I be still?
My friend, whom I loved, has turned into clay,
Must I, too, like him, lay me down
Not to rise again for ever and ever?"

— Extract from the ‘The Epic of Gilgamesh’, Ancient Iraq - George Roux (via littlehistorythings)