Fair Shining One
High summer, and the golden wheat waves in the wind,
bending under the shining brightness of your love.
Grasshoppers sing in the field, small frogs peep from every tree,
and all the world celebrates at the warmth you bring,
the measure of your power, your kindness, and your love.
Bright shining gold is the light you pour over the face of the earth,
each ray caressing and kissing away the cold of winter, of snow, of death;
of bright shining gold is your countenance, is the chariot you guide,
are the stallions who pull your chariot, and the spoked wheels that turn
in graceful and perfect service to your passage across the sky.
In the pastures of Gaul, where your people drive their cattle, they knew you;
in the forests of England, where the hunters stalked the deer, they knew you.
In the mountains of Italy, where the snows linger very long, they knew you.
In Denmark, in Ireland, in all the lands where your folk lived, they called your name.
O beautiful radiant one, o Belenos, o gentle generous one, across those lands and more,
they raised their voices in honor of you, and in praise of your gifts.
Inscriptions sing of your glories; offerings were given up at holy springs,
horses and spiked wheels, the wheels of the brilliant sun,
and the world over knew the touch of your gentle hand, and rejoiced.
In exultation at Beltane, we light the fires for you;
in praise of your power, which brings life to the earth again as winter fades,
we dance and feast, offer wine and our finest foods to you,
and always, always, share the joy we know in you with all who come.
There is no greater beauty than your golden light on our faces in summer;
no greater warmth, no joy brighter and more enduring;
your light stirs the land to fertility, heals the illnesses of man and beast,
and as it lays weightless across the bosom of the earth, we revere you and are content.
O Belenos, brilliant one, shining one, beautiful and unstinting in your gifts,
I pray you hear me now, as I raise my voice in song to you,
in joyous memory of those days past and those days soon to come
when once again your light will spread across the land,
a radiant blanket of golden warmth. On that day soon to come, I shall
light the May-Eve fires, and offer you wine and grain, and with these gifts
mirror the love you have always poured out to shine down on us.
And in this, I hope, you are well pleased, as I lift up my face to you,
and sing to you of my love and gratitude, from now until my final breath.
All Their Voices 