Oh our Mother the Earth,
oh our Father the Sky,
Your children are we, and with tired backs
We bring you the gifts that you love.

Then weave for us a garment of brightness.
May the warp be the bright light of morning;
May the fringes be the falling rain;
May the borders be the standing rainbow.

Thus weave for us a garment of brightness,
that we may walk fittingly where birds sing;
That we may walk fittingly where grass is green.
Oh our Mother the Earth, oh our Father the Sky.