Vastospati, who slays all diseases and wears away all forms,
Be our friendly protector.
When, O bright son of Saramā, you show your tawny teeth,
They shine like spear points in your mouth, as if you were about to bite; go to sleep.
Saramā’s son, return to your path: bark at the robber and the thief.
At Indra’s singers do you bark? Why do you seek to frighten us? Go to sleep.
The boar that sits, the boar that walks, and whoever looks upon us,
We close our eyes around them, just as we close the doors of this house.
The Bull with a thousand horns, which rises from the sea—
By him we calm the Strong and Mighty One, and make the people sleep.
The women sleeping in the courtyard, lying outside or stretched on beds,
All of them, matrons with their fragrant scents, we calm to sleep.