The Spring Greeting
Lada, bright mother of the thawing world, you who open the earth with a single warm breath, come into this house. Smooth the quarrel from my speech, the frost from my heart, the bitterness from my table. Where you walk the wheat stands straight and lovers keep their word. Let my life be a field you would gladly cross.
Spoken standing, with a window opened however briefly, and a flower or green branch laid on the altar cloth.