Gentle Hypnos, child of night-dwelling Nyx,
master of far-flung Erebos, far beyond
the path of the sun, I honor you, I thank you
for your blessings. Dark is your hall, O Hypnos,
dark and deep; red are the poppies that grow
at your gate. Young and fair you are, O Hypnos,
so beautiful in repose. Kind and good you are,
O brother of death, O granter of rest
to the weary, of respite to those whose need
for your comfort is desperate and dire. Hypnos,
fair-browed one whose gift of sleep restores us
to ourselves each day anew, I praise you.