The greatness of mighty Pushan is praised again and again, and his praise never flags. Paruchchhepa, in four atyashti verses, calls the goat-drawn god for friendship and help, the joy-giver who stirs every mind. As a camel carries across the desert, he carries us past our foes. Those who praised him before enjoyed his favour; the poet now asks for a fresh team of riches. Be unangry, Pushan, widely praised, and be our companion in every contest. I do not despise you, he says, and I do not deny your friendship.
प्रप्र॑ पू॒ष्णस्तु॑विजा॒तस्य॑ शस्यते महि॒त्वम॑स्य त॒वसो॒ न त॑न्दते स्तो॒त्रम॑स्य॒ न त॑न्दते । अर्चा॑मि सुम्न॒यन्न॒हमन्त्यू॑तिं मयो॒भुव॑म् । विश्व॑स्य॒ यो मन॑ आयुयु॒वे म॒खो दे॒व आ॑युयु॒वे म॒खः
prapra pūṣṇastuvijātasya śasyate mahitvamasya tavaso na tandate stotramasya na tandate | arcāmi sumnayannahamantyūtiṃ mayobhuvam | viśvasya yo mana āyuyuve makho deva āyuyuve makhaḥ