THROUGH the Field's Master, as through a dear friend, we gain What sustains our cattle and horses. May He be kind to us.
AS the cow yields milk, pour freely, Lord of the Field, the sweet-flowing wave, Distilled like butter, and may the Lawful Ones be gracious.
MAY the plants be sweet for us, the skies, the waters, and the air's mid-region full of sweetness. May the Field's Lord be sweet for us, and may we follow Him unharmed.
MAY our steeds and men thrive, may the furrows be happy. MAY the traces bind well, may He drive the goad happily.
ŚUNA and SĪRA, welcome this song, with the milk you made in Heaven Drench this Earth of ours.
AUSPICIOUS SĪTĀ, come close to us; we honor and worship You That You bless and prosper us, and bring us abundant fruits.
MAY Indra tamp down the furrow, may PŪṢAN guide it straight. May She, rich in milk, be drained for us every year.
HAPPILY may the shares plow the land, happily may the ploughers with oxen go. WITH meath and milk, make us happy. Grant us prosperity, ŚUNA and SĪRA.