Hymns of the Atharva Veda, by Ralph T.H. Griffith, , at sacred-texts.com
1With retroverted fruit hast thou, O Apāmārga, sprung and
Hence into distance most remote drive every curse away from,
2Whatever evil we have done, whatever vile or sinful act,
With thee, O Apāmārga, who lookest all ways, we wipe it off.
3If with the cripple we have lived, whose teeth are black and
With thee, O Apāmārga, we wipe all that ill away from us.