1
Pour down the rain upon us, send a wave of water from the sky, And fill our land with bountiful crops.
2
Let that stream of yours flow forward, by which the cows came to us, The cattle of strangers to our home.
3
You are the chief friend of the gods in sacred rites, pour on us richness with your stream, Pour down upon us a flood of rain.
4
To give us strength, let that stream run through the woolly fleece, For truly the gods will carry it.
5
Pāvamāna has flowed forward and driven off the Rakṣasas, Flashing forth brilliance as of old.