Gaia, mother of all,
I shall sing,
the strong foundation, the oldest one.
She feeds everything in the world.
Whoever walks upon her sacred ground
or moves through the sea
or flies in the air, it is she
who nourishes them from her treasure trove.
Queen of earth, through you
beautiful children,
beautiful harvests,
come.
It is you who give life to mortals
and who take life away.
Blessed is the one you honour with a willing heart.
He who has this has everything.
His fields thicken with life-giving corn,
his cattle grow heavy in the pastures,
his house brims over with good things.
The men are masters of their city,
the laws are just,
the woman are fair,
great riches and fortune follow them.
Their sons delight in the ecstasy of youth,
their daughters play
in dances garlanded with flowers,
they skip happily on the grass
over soft flowers.
It was you who honoured them,
sacred goddess, generous spirit.
Farewell, mother of the gods,
bride of starry Heaven.
For my song, allow me a life
my heart loves.
(From The Homeric Hymns, Trans. Jules Cashford, Penguin Books)
