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Hymns of the Atharva Veda, by Ralph T.H. Griffith, [1895], at sacred-texts.com
1Let not the piercers find us, nor let those who wound discover
us.
O Indra, make the arrows fall, turned, far from us, to every
side.
2Turned from us let the arrows fall, those shot and those that will
be shot.
Shafts of the Gods and shafts of men, strike and transfix mine
enemies:
3Whoever treateth us as foes, be he our own or strange to us, a
kinsman or a foreigner,
May Rudra with his arrows pierce and slay these enemies of
mine. p. a19
4The rival and non-rival, he who in his hatred curses us
May all the deities injure him! My nearest, closest mail is
prayer.