A hymn for one such as the Wolf

Who is this one?
The one who looks down
on all that has been made
What shall they call him?
His name is Lupus
one filled with power

He rides upon the storms
He has beds upon twelve thousand hills
He make the agnus to lie down
in his pastures
He hides himself in the cleft
of the agnus
And sweet milk flows
From the mountains he folds
into the palms of his hands

He treads the bottomland
rich and fertile
and sweet wine
flows forth for him

His name is Lupus
His eye flashes
And who can endure it?
Who can know it?

His name is Lupus-Cain
His eye gazes
And no creature can pluck it out
Who can know the ways of Lupus-Cain?

He rides upon the storms
He rides upon the waves
He carries many treasures
in his heart
and in his eye

Yes, he hides himself
in the agnine cleft
And there he steals away



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