22. For the Sea

I call you, bride of the ocean, gray-eyed
Tethys, dark shrouded lady of turning,
rising waves that, driven by sweet breezes,
lap against the earth. You shatter in great
waves on the rocky beaches, calm yourself
in peaceful, sweetly sheltered strands. You take
joy in ships, nourish beasts, and leave wet sand
behind. Mother of Kypris, and mother
of gloomy Clouds, and every spring of Nymphs
bursting forth with streams; hear me, o much-praised
goddess: may you give gracious help, and send
fair winds to ships on their courses, blessed one.