Upon the lake's edge
And upon the foot of the willows
We desire to understand mankind.
The moon stands alone
As its nemesis lie in slumber
We are then able to gaze in secret.
That which was will remain with us
And upon the foot of the willows
We make our return to the nightwoods.
And now you are my anchor
In the rapture of this day
And your name will be my prayer:
Hekate, Hekate, Hekate!
You bestow upon me the dreams
And now I dream of thee
Hekate, approach, I beseech thee.
What remains of us is the wait
With hope and inquiry
And the urge to move about the countryside.
We will, without rest, risk everything and have
The wind against us as we go.
We follow the footsteps
Yet the animals of the forests
Have long been asleep.
And your image is my anchor
In the rapture of this day
And your name will be my prayer.