Over a magic stone, beside Sarasvati, the Gods Ploughed in this
barley that was blent with mead.
Lord of the plough was Indra, strong with hundred powers: the
ploughers were the Maruts they who give rich gifts.
Thy joy in hair that falleth or is scattered, wherewith thou sub-
jectest a man to laughter
To other trees, far from thee will I drive it. Grow up, thou
Samī, with a hundred branches.
Auspicious, bearing mighty leaves, holy one, nurtured by the rain,
Even as a mother to her sons, be gracious, Samī to our hair.
