To Sabazios

I call to you Sabazios, crowned with oak leaves
and surrounded by the swirling smoke of the torches
that are borne during your mystery rites, O Lord of the
Titanic battle-shriek who delights in the frenzy brought
on by large quantities of beer and dancing with serpents
late into the night, fearless one who rides a charger dark
as a stormcloud through the heavens hunting the starry boar,
enigmatic one whose will is expressed through the flight
of ravens and eagles and vultures, mighty one who protects
the World Tree against assault by wicked Giants of the cold
and dark, you friend of Hermes God of Kings, companion
of horse-loving Bendis of the Silver Bow, champion of great
Artemis of Ephesos, feasted by Zalmoxis in his underground
chamber, you who have never forgotten the boon your nurse
Hipta did when she smuggled you safely to the holy mountain
on your night of terror and trials; O Sabazios, foremost of the
Gods of Thrace and Phrygia, as you often listened to the prayers
of Orpheus, singer of inspired verse, may my words reach you
now and turn your heart so that you rain blessings of health,
protection and good luck down upon your passionate votaries.