Ares of the crested helm, the spear and the shield,
son of thundering Zeus and Hera of the deep eyes,
fair of form, unmatched in mettle and in might,
battle-wise and battle-ready, I call to you.
Ares, great of fame, sharp of sword and swift of step,
who grants to the soldier a bold heart and a keen wit,
who fires the spirit of the fearful and the weak,
who gives strength to those whose plight is desperate and dire,
yours are those brave ones who stand upon the field,
yours is the blood-soaked ground, the honor of the fallen,
yours is the love of the Cyprian who knows so well
the hearts of men. Ares, friend of those who live
in dangerous times, Ares of the last chance,
the last breath, the last hope of life, I praise your name.