Heimdallr who hears all, hear my prayer
from the turrets of Himinbjörg where
shimmering Bifröst meets the sky
and leads to numerous other realms
like a second mighty World Tree.
You see all that transpires
in these far-off places, scanning
the horizon for signs of Ragnarök’s arrival
when you will sound Gjallarhorn
and rouse the Gods to battle
against that which would threaten
the divine order established by the Three Brothers
from the remnants of their Giant ancestor
long, long ago.
You hold in your mind an image
of how things should be,
and act to bring things into alignment
with their ideal pattern,
creating order and harmony,
hale and concord
where there was chaos, violent
disagreement, defect and disease.
I beseech you, Heimdallr, drive out
these negative influences and anything else
that might cause me to stray
from my destined path of devotion to the Holy Powers,
and restore what is missing or damaged within me
so that I might better fulfill the will of my Gods and Spirits.
This I ask, Heimdallr, you who traveled about in secret,
propagating the lines of humanity,
and all their distinct crafts and customs,
and so know what it is for us to strive
and through great focus and direction of will
attain our particular glory.
Hail to you, most radiant God,
strong and stubborn as a ram on his mountain,
whether it pleases you to be called Heimdallr,
Rig, Hallinskiði, Gullintanni, Vindhlér
or any of the many other names you have adopted
during your journeys with Loki, Þórr and the Alföðr;
may your praises always be upon my lips
and your shrine piled with plentiful offerings,
O whitest Ás, and son of Nine Mothers.