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Hymns of the Atharva Veda, by Ralph T.H. Griffith, [1895], at sacred-texts.com
1Speak to our enemies, O Drum, discouragement and wild
dismay.
We bring upon our foemen fear and discord and discomfiture.
Drum! drive these enemies away.
2When sacrificial butter hath been offered, let our foemen flee.
Through consternation, terrified, trembling in mind and eye and
heart.
3Wrought out of wood, compact with straps of leather, dear to
all the clan, p. a182
Bedewed with sacrificial oil, speak terror to our enemies.
4As the wild creatures of the wood flee in their terror from a
man,
Even so do thou, O Drum, roar out against our foes to frighten
them, and then bewilder thou their thoughts.
5As, when the wolf approaches, goats and sheep run sorely
terrified,
Even so do thou, O Drum, roar out against our foes to frighten
them, and then bewilder thou their thoughts.
6As birds of air, day after day, fly in wild terror from the hawk,
as from a roaring lion's voice,
Even so do thou, O Drum, roar out against our foes to frighten
them, and then bewilder thou their thoughts.
7May all the deities whose might controls the fortune of the fray
Frighten away our enemies with Drum and skin of antelope.
8Let those our enemies who go yonder in their battalions shake.
In fear at shadows and the sounds of feet which Indra sporteth
with.
9To all the quarters of the sky let clang of bowstrings and our
Drums.
Cry out to hosts of foes that go discomfited in serried ranks.
10Āditya, take their sight away! Follow them close, ye motes of
light.
Let them cleave fast to foot-bound hosts when strength of arm
hath past away.
11Do ye, O mighty Maruts, sons of Prisni, crush down, with
Indra for ally, our foemen.
King Soma. Varuna, great God and sovran, Indra too, aye,
Death,—
12May these embattled Gods, brilliant as Sūrya—All hail!—one-
minded conquer those who hate us.