Hymns of the Atharva Veda, by Ralph T.H. Griffith, , at sacred-texts.com
1Aryaman is thy grandsire, Night thy mother, and the Cloud thy
Thy name is called Silāchi. Thou, thyself, art sister of the Gods.
2Whoever drinketh thee hath life: thou savest and protectest
As nursing mother of mankind, thou takest all upon thy lap.
3Thou clingest close to every tree, as a fond damsel clasps her
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Thy name is called The Conqueror, She who Stands Fast, The
4Whatever wound the arrow, or the staff, or violence inflicts,
Thereof thou art the remedy: as such restore this man to health.
5Thou springest from blest Plaxa, or Asvattha, Dhava, Khadira,
Parna, or blest Nyagrodha, so come thou to use, Arundhatī!
6Gold-coloured, bringing happy fate, most lovely, brilliant as the
Mayst thou, O Healing! come unto the fracture: Healing is thy
7Gold-coloured, bringing happy fate, odorous, hairy-bodied one,
The sister of the Waters art thou, Lākshā! and thy soul is Wind.
8Silāchi is thy name: thy sire, O goat-brown! is a damsel's son.
Thou hast been sprinkled by the mouth of Yama's tawny-
9Issuing from the horse's blood away she glided to the trees.
Become a winged water-brook, and come to us, Arundhatī!