First comes the night
the primordial one
within which the ethereal form of the goddess arrives
to behold herself reflected in the waters.
Her amorphous mass
descending from the spheres
begins to play with the waves
to leap upon them, to spring across them
And behold, the first thing the goddess acquires
is a pair of legs with which she tirelessly
dances the primal dance
No one sees her

no one can see her
for neither the sun nor the moon
has yet been born
nor any living creature
Only she, slowly assuming her bodily form
And as she dances so fiercely
So swiftly
She intensifies the whirlpool
And suddenly creates the wind
Which, too, receives its ethereal shape
The waters are endless
The night is eternal
The cold unceasing
Neither hearth-fire
nor heavenly light
to warm the goddess
She herself is living fire
The wind is the one who cools her
That caresses her
That indulges her.
She yields to his touch
Arches and sways
And suddenly from her love
The fiery serpent is born
She does not cease her dancing
She does not wish her fire to fade
nor her passion
Only the fiery serpent
bears witness to her rapturous dance
With its gaze
it burns the dancer
gives her strength
gives her wings
so that she may continue the primordial dance
and lay
the cosmic egg