Thoth, son of Re, Moon, of beautiful rising, lord of appearing, light of the gods, hail to you, moon, Thoth, bull in Khmun, dweller in Hesret, who makes way for the gods! O Thoth, you I adore, you I invoke! Who knows the secrets, who records their expression, who distinguishes one speech from another, who is judge of everyone! O Thoth, you I adore, you I invoke! Keen-faced in the ship-of-millions, courier of mankind, who knows a man by his utterance, who makes the deed rise against the doer! O Thoth, you I adore, you I invoke! Who contents Re, advises the sole lord, lets him know whatever happens; at dawn he summons in heaven, and forgets not yesterday’s report! O Thoth, you I adore, you I invoke! Who makes safe the bark of night, makes tranquil the bark of day, with arms outstretched in the bow of the ship. O Thoth, you I adore, you I invoke! Pure-faced when he takes the stern-rope, as the day-bark rejoices in the night-bark’s joy, at the feast of crossing the sky. O Thoth, you I adore, you I invoke! Who fells the fiend, the Ennead in the bark of night worship you lord Thoth, they say to you, Hail, son of Re, praised of Re, whom the gods applaud! O Thoth, you I adore, you I invoke! They repeat what your ka wishes, as you make way for the place of the bark, as you act against that fiend: you cut off his head, you break his ba, you cast his corpse in the fire, you are the god who slaughters him! O Thoth, you I adore, you I invoke! Nothing is done without your knowing, great one, son of a great one, who came from her limbs, champion of Harakhti, wise friend in On, who makes the place of gods, who knows the secrets, expounds their words! O Thoth, you I adore, you I invoke! I give praise to you, Thoth, straight plummet in the scales, who repulses evil, who accepts him who learns not on crime! O Thoth, you I adore, you I invoke! The vizier who settles cases, who changes turmoil to peace; the scribe of the mat who keeps the book, who punishes crime, who accepts the submissive! O Thoth, you I adore, you I invoke! Wise among the ennead, who relates what was forgotten. O Thoth, you I adore, you I invoke! Counsellor to him who errs, who remembers the fleeting moment, who reports the hour of night, whose words endure forever, who enter dat, knows those in it and records them in the list! O Thoth, you I adore, you I invoke! Thoth, son of Re, Moon, you who distinguished the tongue of every foreign land, you who recalls all that has been forgotten, you who balances the scales, scribe of the gods, lord of the books, counter of the stars, lord of magic! Hail to you Ibis-headed one, who knows all secrets, great is your word! O Thoth, you I adore, you I invoke! A royal offering to you, Thoth, lord of writing, lord of Khmun, who determines maat, who embarks Re in the bark of night. May you hear your suppliant’s mystic praise.
Extracted from The Papyroi of Iakkhos