You dwell below the earth,
O strong-spirited one,
a meadow in Tartaros,
Thick-shaded and dark.
Sceptered Chthonic Zeus,
please accept this sacrifice,
O Plouton, holder of the keys
to the whole earth.
To mankind you give
the wealth of the year’s fruits,
yours is the third portion,
earth, queen of all,
seat of the gods,
mighty lap of mortals.
Your throne rests
on a dark realm,
the realm of distant, of untiring,
of windless, and of impassive Hades;
it does rest on gloomy Acheron,
the river who girds the roots of the earth.
All-receiver, master of death,
master of mortals, host of many,
Euboulos, you once took as your bride
pure Demeter’s daughter:
you tore her away from the meadow,
and through the sea
you carried her to an Attic cave
upon your steeds-
it was the district of Eleusis,
where the gates to Hades are.
You alone were born to judge
deeds obscure and conspicuous.
Holiest and illustrious ruler of all,
you delight in the respect
and in the reverence of your worshippers.
I summon you, come with favor,
come with joy to the initiates.