The good God, the highest of the gods,
a diadem and eternal glory, blissful among the lights,
was proud and happy when you was born in his realm.
The twelve sons and the aeons of the aeons of the vast
air were also happy.
All gods and the inhabitants of his realm -
the mountains, trees, springs , the broad strong palaces
and halls, were happy through you, Friend.
When the lovely women and girls born of the Sense saw you,
they praised you, blessed you , perfect youth.
Songs filled the air. Tambourine, harp, and flute exploded.
All gods stood before you, Prince, son of a king.
Voices ring from the vast air, songs from the Light-Earth,
tell the Father of Light;
Born is the battler who make peace.
The all-good highest of the gods gives you three tasks;
Destroy death, strike the enemies, and cover the whole
Paradise of Light! You paid homage and went out for battle
and covered the whole Paradise of Light.
The tyrant prince was bound forever and the dwelling place
of the Dark Ones was destroyed.
The Light Friend, Primal Man, remained until he carried
out his fathers will.