The Old English Genesis 1-12

Us is riht micel ðæt we rodera weard,
wereda wuldorcining, wordum herigen,
modum lufien! He is mægna sped,
heafod ealra heahgesceafta,
frea ælmihtig. Næs him fruma æfre,
or geworden, ne nu ende cymþ
ecean drihtnes, ac he bið a rice
ofer heofenstolas. Heagum þrymmum
soðfæst and swiðfeorm sweglbosmas heold,
þa wæron gesette wide and side
þurh geweald godes wuldres bearnum,
gasta weardum.

For us, it is the Great Truth, 

that we praise 

in the Words 

And that we Love 

the Practice 

of the Celestial Guardian, 

the Tribe's Glory-King.

He is the Great Wealth,

our Chief, the Great Creator,

the Lord All-Powerful.

No Origin was made for Him.

No End comes to Him,

the Lord of Eternity.

And over the Thrones of the Sky,

He is always in Power.

In the Exalted Power,

with Truth and with Force,

He holds the Sky's Chest,

Made from His Strength

For his Shining Offspring,

The Protectors of a Ghost.

The Vulgate: Gen. 1.11

et ait germinet terra herbam virentem et facientem semen et lignum pomiferum faciens fructum iuxta genus suum cuius semen in semet ipso sit super terram et factum est ita

And he said, 
The land should inseminate green grass
And the living seed, 
And the wood 
that bears fruit 
so it makes its same flesh, 
just as one seed 
is spawned 
in itself
over the land.   

And so it was made.  

from the Metamorphoses, Book X

nec Tantalus undam
captavit refugam, stupuitque Ixionis orbis,
nec carpsere iecur volucres, urnisque vacarunt
Belides, inque tuo sedisti, Sisyphe, saxo.
tunc primum lacrimis victarum carmine fama est              
Eumenidum maduisse genas


Nor did Tantalus reach for water,
and the orb of Ixion ceased,
and the vultures,
always tearing at the tendon
of our Promethean misery,
for a moment,
even they stopped.

The Belides left their inane jars.
You, my dear Sisyphus,
you could rest,
for once,
you sat atop your rock.
It was then the first time,
Fame, conquered in song,
and the Furies,
they wept.