1
You, indeed, O Earth, carry the tool that splits the mountains: You rich in rivers, who with power quicken the ground, O Powerful One.
2
To you, O one who wanders at will, sing out the praises with the light of day, Who drive, like a galloping horse, the swelling clouds, O bright in color.
3
You grasp with your might on the earth, even the mighty kings of the forest, When from the cloud of your lightning the floods of heaven pour down.