Tr. eng, Ralph T. H. Griffiths 1889, verse, line2 Thee, then, O Pūṣan, like a swift one on his way, I urge with lauds that thou mayst make the foemen flee, drive, camel-like, our foes afar. As I, a man, call thee, a God, giver of bliss, to be my Friend, So make our loudly-chanted praises glorious, in battles make them glorious.