Sun, sun, divine Ra-Helios, you delight the hearts of kings and heroes, sacred horses neigh to you, in Heliopolis they sing hymns to you; when you shine, lizards crawl out onto rocks and boys go laughing to swim in the Nile. Sun, sun, I am a pale scribbler, a library recluse, but I love you, sun, no less than a tanned sailor smelling of fish and salt water, and no less than his accustomed heart rejoices at your royal rising from the ocean, my heart trembles, when your dusty, but flaming ray slips through the narrow window by the ceiling onto my filled page and my thin, yellowish hand, writing out in vermilion the first letter of a hymn to you, O Ra-Helios sun!