Prayer to Sol, Apollo

O Sol, whose light embraces the world, you orbit inexhaustible, forever returning, your face glowing on each day, your horses harnessed as a team to drive your chariot, with manes braided pleasantly they rise high, passing over rose-red clouds as you rein their frothing fires. Already yet another year begins, measured by the footsteps of brothers, who as new consuls gladly offer their prayers and vows.