Hail to the guardians of the watchtowers
of the east, hear me!
Bring me what I crave by air
to whatever invention my mind made here.

Hail to the guardians of the watchtowers
of the south, hear me!
My feelings run hot like fire
let his touch be our funeral pyre.

Hail to the guardians of the watchtowers
of the west, hear me!
Let your water sooth my souls' burning
your intuitions quench this aching yearning.

Hail to the guardians of the watchtowers
of the north, hear me!
Let the mother be one with you
so that her heart may shine forever true.

So mote it be.