Hail, purple-winged Boreas, icy god of the North Wind,
Lord of Winter!
You chill the air with your frigid breath, which raises the storms
and grips the land with frost;
Your hair and beard are spangled with ice.
You carried off Oreithyia from the riverside meadow where she played,
Heedless of her father Erechtheus' wishes,
And made her your celestial bride,
The mother of Zetes, Kalais, and Khione, goddess of the snows.
You sire the swiftest of horses.
Hail, purple-winged Boreas, icy god of the North Wind,
Lord of Winter!