Golden orb,
shed your blood over the awakening sky,
dye the darkness in your warmth.
Huge you rise
over rivers, raging and wild,
and over desert and steppe, over the sand I tread in.
You make the wind
a scorching blaze when you sit enthroned high,
high above your children's heads.
Huge golden orb,
you dictate our day, waking and resting,
your mercy lets us live or die.
Burn gently,
dear mother of living things,
rock us to our sleep in a warm embrace.
Wander elsewhere
just for a while, to give us rest,
before a new day begins.
