A hymn to Ḫendursaĝa (Ḫendursaĝa A)

You have no river where fish could be caught by the fisheries inspector as they dart about there. No produce is derived by the farmer from your fields. The collector of cattle taxes cannot collect a single bull from your cattle; the shepherd cannot penetrate among your flocks, nor can he make an official assessment. There is no reed xx among your stakes (?). Your dough trough does not produce any revenue. But the robber who encounters you is xx. On the quiet streets xx; in the play areas you xx very much. You are the chief constable of the dead people who are brought to the underworld. Ḫendursaĝa, you have great divine powers, more than anyone could require.