Like women moving slowly in white garments, let this pressed juice, clothed in its milk, glide forth, an offering before the Most Active One.

2 Mighty is God the Mighty, in whom is no weakness: He smites the foemen dead.

3 O God, advance, go forward, Thou by whose might all is Thine; destroy Thy foes.

4 Long be Thy bounty wherewith Thou givest treasure unto him who offers and worships Thee.

5 Here, O God, is the offering made pure upon the sacred grass for Thy sake: accept it.

6 Famed for Thy radiance, worshipped well, this offering is made for Thy sake: Thou art invoked, O Destroyer of evil.

7 To Thee, who wast the protector of the rite of Kundapayya and of the line of Sringavrish, have I addressed my thought.