Pan of the mountain peaks, Pan of the wilderness,
Pan who plays upon the pipes so sweetly, who dances
with the merry-hearted nymphs. Goat-footed god,
companion of the satyrs who take such joy in wine
and earthly pleasures, father of the wise Silenus
who took such care of deep-hearted Dionysos,
son of clever Hermes who took such pride in you,
his laughing, joyful child. In all the far-flung lands
there is none such as you, O Pan; stalker of beasts,
watcher of flocks, friend of the shepherd, friend
of the hunter, friend of those who find insight
and meaning in field and wood, who find beauty
and comfort in the rustic and the wild. Pan,
granter of instinct, I praise and honor you.