1 Glorify naught besides, O friends; so shall no sorrow trouble you. Praise only the Mighty God when the gift is poured, and say your lauds repeatedly:

2 Even Him, eternal, like a bull who rushes down, men's Conqueror, bounteous like a cow;

Him who is cause of both, of enmity and peace, to both sides most munificent.

3 Although these men in sundry ways invoke Thee to obtain Thine aid,

Be this our prayer, addressed, O God, unto Thee, Thine exaltation every day.

4 Those skilled in song, O Bountiful, among these men o'ercome with might the foeman's songs.

Come hither, bring us strength in many a varied form most near that it may succour us.

5 O Caster of the Stone, I would not sell Thee for a mighty price,

Not for a thousand, Thunderer! nor ten thousand, nor a hundred, Lord of countless wealth!

6 O God, Thou art more to me than sire or niggard brother is.

Thou art to me, O Good Lord, as a parent, to give me wealth abundantly.

7 Haste, Warrior, Fort-destroyer, Lord of battle's din, haste, holy songs have sounded forth.

8 Sing out the psalm to Him who breaks down castles for His faithful friend,

Verses to bring the Thunderer to destroy the forts and sit on Kanva's sacred grass.

9 The horses which are Thine in tens, in hundreds, yea, in thousands Thine,

Even those vigorous steeds, fleet-footed in the course, with those come quickly near to us.

10 This day I call upon Him who animates the holy song,

God the richly-yielding Milch-cow who provides unfailing food in ample stream.

13 May we be never cast aside, and strangers, as it were, to Thee.

We, Thunder-wielding God, count ourselves as trees rejected and unfit to burn.

14 O Slayer of the arrogant, we were thought slow and unready for the fray.

Yet once in Thy great bounty may we have delight, O Hero, after praising Thee.

15 If He will listen to my laud, then may our offerings that flow

Rapidly through the strainer gladden God, offerings due to the Strengthener of the Tugryas.

16 Come now unto the common laud of Thee and of Thy faithful friend.

So may our wealthy nobles' praise give joy to Thee. Fain would I sing Thine eulogy.

17 Press out the juice with the stones, and in the waters wash it clean.

The men investing it with raiment made of milk shall milk it forth from out the stems.

18 Whether Thou come from earth or from the lustre of the lofty heaven,

Wax stronger in Thy power through my song of praise: fill full all creatures, O most Wise.

19 For God press out the juice, most gladdening and most excellent.

May the Mighty make it swell, sent forth with every prayer and asking, as it were, for strength.

20 Let me not, still beseeching Thee with earnest song, anger Thee like a wild beast. Who would not beseech Him who hath power to grant his prayer?

21 The draught made swift with rapturous joy, effectual with its mighty strength,

All-conquering, distilling transport, let Him accept: for He in grace gives us gifts.

22 Where bliss is not, may He, All-praised, God whom the pious glorify,

Bestow great wealth upon the mortal worshipper who gives and praises Him.

23 Come, O God, and rejoice Thyself in manifold affluence.

Thou fillest like a lake Thy vast capacious bulk with gifts and draughts besides.

24 A thousand and a hundred steeds are harnessed to Thy golden car.

So may the long-maned bays, yoked by devotion, bring Thee to accept the offering.

25 Yoked to Thy chariot wrought of gold, may Thy two bays with peacock tails,

Convey Thee hither, steeds with their white backs, to accept the sweet gift that makes us eloquent.

26 So accept, Thou Lover of the Song, as the first, this offering.

This the outpouring of the savoury sap prepared is good and meet to gladden Thee.

27 He who alone by wondrous deed is Mighty, Strong by holy works,

May He come, fair of cheek; may He not stay afar, but come and turn not from our call.

28 The quick-moving castle of the arrogant Thou hast crushed to pieces with Thy bolts.

Thou, O God, from of old, hast followed after light, since we have had Thee to invoke.

29 My praises when the sun hath risen, my praises at the time of noon,

My praises at the coming of the gloom of night, O Bountiful, have gone forth to Thee.

30 Praise yea, praise him. Of princes these are the most liberal of their gifts,

These, Paramajya, Ninditasva, Prapathi, most bounteous, O Medhyatithi.

31 When to the car, by faith, I yoked the horses longing for the way,

For skilled is Yadu's son in dealing precious wealth, he who is rich in herds of kine.

32 May he who gave me two brown steeds together with their cloths of gold,

May he, Asanga's son Svanadratha, obtain all joy and high felicities.

33 Playoga's son Asanga, by ten thousand, O God, hath surpassed the rest in giving.

For me ten bright-hued oxen have come forward like lotus-stalks from out a lake upstanding.