O Pūṣan, thou art the herdsman of the sky. The stars do follow where thou leadest them. The moon obeyeth thy command; the sun doth mark thy path.

Thou art the keeper of the herds of immortality. The celestial cattle graze upon the fields of heaven, and thou dost guard them with unwavering care.

The Ādityas follow at thy heel. The waters flow at thy behest. The winds obey thy whispered word, and all the divinities do bow before thy might.

Thou art the oldest of the gods, the wisest and the most renowned. Thy beard is golden as the grain; thy form is radiant as the sun.

But though thou art so great and wise, so mighty in the eyes of gods, yet art thou gentle with the humble and the small.

The ant crawleth upon the ground, and thou dost care for it. The sparrow chirpeth in the thicket, and thou hearest its small voice. The mortal breathes thy air; the creature feedeth from thy care.

So all the beasts do know thee, and they graze in peace within thy sight. The shepherd sleepeth sound, knowing thou watchest while he dreams.

Come now, O Pūṣan golden-haired, and bless this assembly of thy servants. Accept the soma that we pour; accept the hymn that we do sing.

Grant to our herds increase and health. Give to our children courage true. Let our women bear strong sons; let our daughters wed with honor.

So shall we prosper evermore, and all shall honor thy great name. O Pūṣan, nourisher of all, accept our worship now and aye.