Beneath the hills and wrapped in night, the cavernous plains below, the realm of Hades.
Mystic Hades, Holder of the Keys of Earth,
Incline Your sacred ear, unlock Your deep and adamantine gates, and bring abundant fruits to bear.
All needy mortals pray to You, and You reply with riches from Your hidden chambers.
The seat of Gods, the basis of mankind is fixed upon Your Avernean throne in the Underworld,
Distant, unknown to rest, where darkness reigns, and destitute of breath, pale specters dwell.
In dread Acheron, whose depths are shrouded, And Earth's stable roots are held secure,
You determine the fates of the dead, heeding the council of Queen Persephone, Your wife.
In Your black chariot, by sable horses drawn rapt over the deep, in the wondrous cave of Atthis,
the wide gates display the entrance to Your realm devoid of light.
You shelter mortal souls in the comforting heart of Gaia, in the dark womb of Earth.
Father of Dionysus, of subtle works, You alone are the author, visible and known.
Teacher of Mysteries, Rapturous Lover, Power All Ruling, Holy Giver of Hope,
who delights in the hymns of sacred poets,
Grant favor to the work of Your Priestesses and Priests,
And rejoicing come, for Holy rites are Yours.