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Hymns of the Atharva Veda, by Ralph T.H. Griffith, [1895], at sacred-texts.com
1A Pen wherein to dwell at ease, abundance and prosperity,
Whate'er is called the birth of day, all this do we bestow on
you.
2May Aryaman pour gifts on you, and Pūshan, land Brihaspati,
And Indra, winner of the prize. Make ye my riches grow with me.
3Moving together, free from fear, with plenteous droppings in
this pen,
Bearing sweet milk-like Soma-juice, come hither free from all
disease.
4Come hither, to this place, O Cows: here thrive as though ye
were manured.
Even here increase and multiply; let us be friendly, you and me.
5Auspicious be this stall to you. Prosper like cultivated rice.
Even here increase and multiply. Myself do we bestow on you.
6Follow me, Cows, as master of the cattle. Here may this Cow-
pen make you grow and prosper,
Still while we live may we approach you living, ever increasing
with the growth of riches.