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I call to Magusanos of the low lands,
stout of arm and good of humor, fair of form
and noble of bearing, firm friend of mankind,
accepter of offerings–swords bent and broken,
pretty figures carved in rough stone–given with love
and gratitude by those who have known your kindness.
Your gifts are of the earth, O Magusanos;
you bless the seed within the soil, you guide each man
to his final home. Your gifts are of the body,
O god; you strengthen the weak and restore the weary,
granting fire to the loins and fruit to the tree.
Magusanos, I praise your name, I honor your might.
Fieldstones 