O Kṣetrapati! Lord of the field! Master of the plough and the furrow! We invoke thee with uplifted hands. Bless this earth that we shall break with our tools. Bless the seed that we shall plant.

The plough descendeth into the soil. The oxen strain against their yoke. The earth is turned and broken. New soil riseth to the surface, dark and rich and teeming with potential. This is sacred work. This is the labor that feedeth the people. Thou art present in every furrow.

O lord of the field! Grant that the seed shall fall into fertile ground. Grant that the roots shall spread deep. Grant that the shoots shall break through the earth and reach toward the sun. Grant that the grain shall grow tall and strong. Grant that the harvest shall be abundant.

We bless the plough. We bless the oxen who labor faithfully. We bless the hands of the ploughman, calloused and strong. We bless the earth that openeth herself to receive the seed. We bless the rain that shall fall upon the growing grain. We bless the sun that shall warm it. We bless the wind that shall winnow it.

O Kṣetrapati! Guardian of the fields! Accept the soma. Accept our praise. Watch over our crops. Drive away the pests that would devour them. Bring neither too much rain nor too little. Ripen the grain in its season. Grant us a harvest so abundant that we and our children shall never hunger. Bless the ploughman! Bless the field!