Hypnos, bright-winged bringer of blessed sleep,
son of misty-eyed Nyx of the sooty night,
I call to you to grant me your favor.
In sunless Erebos you make your home,
O Hypnos; each eventide you follow
in Night’s wake, fleet of foot, garlanded
in blood-red poppies, their sweet scent a balm
to those who seek your gift. Hypnos, granter
of the peace of a night’s oblivion,
soft-spoken god in whose gentle
arms men lie in repose, I pray to you,
deliver me into soothing slumber.