Rig Veda, tr. by Ralph T.H. Griffith, [1896], at sacred-texts.com
1. LORD of the path, O Pūṣan, we have yoked and bound thee to our hymn,
Even as a car, to win the prize.
2 Bring us the wealth that men require, a manly master of a house,
Free-handed with the liberal meed.
3 Even him who would not give, do thou,
O glowing Pūṣan, urge to give,
And make the niggard's soul grow soft.
4 Clear paths that we may win the prize; scatter our enemies afar.
Strong God, be all our thoughts fulfilled.
5 Penetrate with an awl, O Sage, the hearts of avaricious churls,
And make them subject to our will.
6 Thrust with thine awl, O Pūṣan: seek that which the niggard's heart holds dear,
And make him subject to our will.
7 Tear up and read in pieces, Sage, the hearts of avaricious churls,
And make them subject to our will.
8 Thou, glowing Pūṣan, carriest an awl that urges men to prayer;
Therewith do thou tear up and rend to shreds the heart of every one.
9 Thou bearest, glowing Lord! a goad with horny point that guides the cows
Thence do we seek thy gift of bliss.
10 And make this hymn of ours produce kine, horses, and a store of wealth
For our delight and use as men.