Selene, white-armed mistress of the shining moon,
the silver crescent crowns your ebon hair; cloaked
in darkness you cross the cold night sky, O goddess.
To you, O Selene, I offer my greeting,
my praise, and my thanks for your many gifts.
Starry-eyed Selene, whose home is the dusky sky,
whose brilliance lights the shadows, driving fear from the souls
of men; child of Titans, sister of bright Helios
who rules the day as you do the dark of night,
your matchless beauty greets us with each setting sun.
Silken-haired goddess, your long black tresses fall
like water, your silver carriage courses through
the air, your strong hand guides the sturdy oxen
that draw it; at your command they soar through clouds
and fall beneath the far horizon. Fair Selene,
you shine your light on the midnight traveler,
the sleepless lover, the wakeful child. Wise goddess,
friend of those who live by night, friend of the lonely,
the waiting, the lost, good Selene, I honor you.
I call to Selene, mistress of the silver moon,
sister of the sun, daughter of the elder gods,
sky-riding goddess, your white hands firm upon the reins,
guiding your pale chariot across the night sky,
your eyes like stars, your silken hair as black as night,
a shining crescent at your brow. Kind-hearted goddess,
beloved of beautiful Endymion,
your light falls ever on lovers’ silent trysts,
on kisses sweetly captured, on longed-for embraces.
As well you keep company with mothers in their
midnight walks, bringing your comfort to crying babe
and weary woman alike. Ever-changing one,
as you wax and wane do farmers plant their fields,
do women count their months, do witches work their spells.
Fair Selene, beacon in the great dark, I call to you.