WHOSO remembers Pūṣan as cater of mingled curd and meal Need think no more upon the God.
And he is best of charioteers. Indra, the hero's Lord, allied With him as Friend, destroys the foes.
And there the best of charioteers hath guided through the speckled cloud The golden wheel of Sūra's car.
Whate’er we speak this day to thee, Wise, Wondrous God whom many praise, Give thou fulfilment of our thought.
Lead on this company of ours, that longs for kine, to win the spoil: Thou, Pūṣan, art renowned afar.
Prosperity we crave from thee, afar from sin and near to wealth, Tending to perfect happiness both for to. morrow and to-day.
