The Lord of the Waters whose plumes are all green,
Enduring forever, the one never seen
Descending into the dark realm of the night,
Like Ra who ensures that the order is right
Within the Two Lands, but Sobek produces
The seeds from which all spring forth, and the sluices
Can never impede; he takes what he wishes:
Men’s wives, for to him they all are small fishes.
The two hands of Horus that Isis had cast
Down into the Nile were made nets to hold fast
The fishes, which caught have no hope of release,
Unless from themselves they are able to cease:
Transforming into great Sobek, creating,
With vigour eternal, never abating.