O Svanaya, lord of lands! Thou art mighty in thy dominion. Thy herds are countless as the stars. Thy fields stretch forth to the horizon. Thy treasuries are filled with gold and silver. Yet greater still is thy heart, for thou art the giver, the one who openeth his hand to the poor.

What wealth is there in hoarding? What glory in the miser's grasp? Thou hast understood the truth that the wise have always known: that the gift made freely is the greatest treasure. The man who giveth achieveth immortality. His name shall be remembered when kingdoms have fallen to dust.

See how the wealth floweth from thy house like the waters of the monsoon! The travelers arrive dusty and parched, and thou givest them drink. The hungry come to thy door, and thou fillest their bellies with good food. The naked are clothed. The sick are healed. All who come to thee depart in blessing.

The gods themselves do note thy generosity. They gather in the heavens and do praise thy name. Indra doth smile upon thee. The Aśvins do guard thy herds. Agni doth bless thy sacrifices. For there is nothing the divine ones love more than a man who giveth freely and loveth his fellow men.

O Svanaya, may thy prosperity endure forever! May thy name be remembered in songs of praise! May thy children's children inherit thy generous heart. In this world and the next, thy deeds shall be rewarded. The wise shall speak of thee. The poor shall call down blessings upon thy house.