Artio, goddess, bold of spirit, strong of heart,
fair one, gracious one, queen of the wilderness,
mistress of bears, I call to you this day.
Gentle goddess, you face without fear the greatest
of beasts, unarmed and ungirded you enter
the den; in hand you hold the fragrant blossom,
in arm you bear the finest fruit, ripe and ready,
honey-sweet as when it was plucked from the tree.
Artio, mountain-goddess, through tangled wood
and stony stream you run, fleet of foot and graceful
of carriage, firm of will and noble of bearing.
Artio, long-beloved goddess, I honor you.