Sing, O Goddess, of the light that shone so brightly.
The harsh light, the unending light.
Praise Mognokum, who braved to enter the light and created that which nurtures all living beings.
Praise Mognokum, who severed his left hand to build our world.
From his palm, he fashioned the land.
From his blood, he fashioned the seas.
From his knucklebones, he fashioned living creatures.
From his thumb, he fashioned the first Tylnor to roam the land.
The Tylnor roamed the land under the light.
The harsh light, the unending light.
The Tylnor suffered, and Mognokum was moved.
The Tylnor suffered, and Mognokum took pity on them.
Praise Mognokum, who shaved his great locks.
Praise Mognokum, who wove his great locks.
From his hair, he fashioned the Shawl.
From his hair, he fashioned the great covering.
Mognokum took pity on his people and covered the world.
Mognokum took pity on his people and shaded them from the light.
The harsh light, the unending light.
We name him Mognokum: Lord of the First Night.
Praise him!
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