Hymns of the Atharva Veda, by Ralph T.H. Griffith, , at sacred-texts.com
1So may this water guard us on the bank of Varanāvati.
Therein hath Amrit been infused: with that I ward thy poison
2Weak is the poison of the East, weak is the poison of the North,
So too this poison of the South counts as a cake of curds and
3When he hath made of thee a cake, broad, steaming, swelling up
And even in hunger eaten thee, then gripe him not, thou hideous
4Intoxicater! like a shaft we make thy spirit fly away, Like a pot
boiling on the fire, we with our word remove thee hence.
5We set around thee with the spell as 'twere a gathered arma-
Stay quiet like a rooted tree. Dug up with mattocks, gripe not
6For coverings men have bartered thee, for skins of deer and
Thou art a thing of sale, O Plant. Dug up with mattocks, gripe
7None have attained to those of old, those who wrought holy acts
Let them not harm our heroes here. Therefore I set before you