Teutates of the far-flung clans, Teutates
of the people, great one who holds together
those who are bound by blood, by name, by those
who have gone before us and those yet to walk
upon the earth, I call to you with the voice
of my mothers, my fathers, my kin of years long gone;
I call to you with the voice of those who held you dear,
O god who knows each new babe born, who knows each
from their first sharp breath ’til the last beat of their heart.
Mender of fences, builder of bridges, you find
the lost and bring them home again; Teutates,
shelter of the family, shield of the tribe, I praise you.