Praise unto Pūṣan, the golden-hued, who driveth his chariot across the earth. He knoweth every path—the ways of men, the trails of beasts, the roads that gods do travel. Not a single track escapeth him, not a crossing, not a mountain pass.

Pūṣan the nourisher! He feedeth all the world. His hands are gentle, his heart boundless. He driveeth away the wolf that threateneth the flock; he keepeth the thief at bay. By his grace do herds prosper, do flocks multiply.

We invoke thee, O bright one, when the dawn breaketh! Guide us along the paths; let no man wander lost. Thy chariot hath golden wheels; thy horses are swift beyond measure. They know the way through trackless lands.

Thou art the keeper of the ways for all who journey. The merchant invoketh thee when he setteth forth. The warrior calleth upon thee ere he marceth to battle. The pilgrim prayeth to thee when he knoweth not the road. Thou art the friend of the wanderer.

O Pūṣan, golden lord! We have sacrificed unto thee. Thou hast eaten of our offerings. Now grant us safe passage. Let our feet not stumble, our eyes not fail us in darkness. Keep us from the ambush, from the wolf, from the thief in the night.

Grant us prosperity in all our journeys. May we arrive whole at our destinations. May our paths be straight and our enemies turned aside. Glory unto thee, O golden-hued! Thou shepherd of all roads, thou guide of the world's wanderers. We praise thee with lifted hands.