The sun, the moon and the barren earth
Huddled quiet, and were our birth
Sol, the hot and hungry parent
Beaming like an angry tyrant
Lune the gentle, glowing sister
Speaking softly, in a whisper
Gaya, barren rocks and water
longing for a son and daughter.
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Sol, inflamed by mother Gaya
fast became a strange messiah
Scorching land and boiling sea
bought cloud and wind, as you can see.
These children of the heavenly pair,
greened the land and made it fare.
Plants and fish, the wolf and ox
Scattered cross the pools and rocks.
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Then we came to reap this plenty
spreading cross the land, half empty
Sons and daughters, Gaya’s offspring
hunting game with spear and sling.
Finding shelter under trees,
Shiver when the cold winds freeze.
Seeing that our plight was dire,
Sol, life-giver, gave us fire.
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Gaya’s gifts are multiple
And help us keep our stomachs full
First a dream of wolfpacks chase
made tribal hunting commonplace.
She followed that with spiders’ web
gave nets across the river’s ebb.
The final dream of squirrel wits
led to building storage pits.
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Lune looked down all through the night
Saw lonely people, sad campsite.
With dreams of peckers midnight thrum
A hollow log became a drum.
Rotted fruit and drunken deer
showed the way to berry-beer.
Soon the evening passed quite merry
Thanks to drum and happy berry.
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Give you thanks to all three lords,
Mentor of us human hordes.
Treat their gifts with great respect,
Lest their world-gift should be wrecked.
Take your needs and leave the rest,
let our world be loved and blessed.
Mother Gaya, Sol and Lune
We thank you for your gracious boon.