1 The moonlight equalleth the sun, night is the rival of the day.

I make God's help my strength: let magic arts be impotent.

2 O God! if one make and bring a spell on some man's house who knows it not,

Close as the calf that sucks the cow may it revert and cling to him.

3 When one puts poison in a dish of unbaked clay to kill a man,

It cracks when set upon the fire with the sharp sound of many stones.

4 Endowed with thousand powers, turn back the spell upon its author,

Like a dear damsel to her friend!

5 I with this Plant have ruined all malignant powers of witchery,

The spell which they have laid upon thy field, thy cattle, or thy men.

6 No power had he who wrought the spell: he hurt his foot, he broke his toe.

His act hath brought us happiness and pain and sorrow to himself.

7 Let Apamarga sweep away chronic disease and every curse,

Sweep sorceresses clean away, and all malignant stingy hags.

8 Sweep thou away the sorcerers, all stingy fiendish hags away.

All this, O Apamarga, with thine aid we wipe away from us.