Pan

From a slender river reed,
a trivial thing,
I have filled the air with magic
and with fire
for women and for men,
and made them hungry, wild,
to set their feet in dance upon the earth
and bend their voices ardently
to sing
and serve your sometime wife
fair robed Mnemosune.

Tell me, father Zeus, far-seeing one,
what have you ever done
with your fabled shield of storm
and with your flashing thunderbolt,
and all your war-won power,
your conquests
and your promiscuities
that rivals this?