A Charm Against the Foe

May Indra, shake the enemy, Sakra, the mighty hero, who splits the forts, so that we may slay by thousands the armies of our enemies!

May the rotten rope, breathing on it, turn into a stench against the yon enemy army. When shall they see from afar our smoke and fire, fear shall set into their hearts.

The atmosphere was the net, the great quarters of the space the stakes of the net. Therewith the mighty Indra encircled the enemy and scattered away the army of the Dasyus.

Verily great is the net of mighty great Indra, wealthy in steeds, therewith do thou, enfold all the foes, so that no one of them may be released!

Great is the net, O mighty Indra, a hero, equal to a thousand warriors, and who hast hundredfold strength. With that net Indra slew a hundred, a thousand, ten thousand and a hundred million foes.

This great world was the net of this great mighty Indra. With this net of Indra I enfold all you enemies in darkness!

With debility, great dejection, failure and misfortune, with fatigue, weariness and confusion do I enfold all you enemies!

To death do I assign them yonder, with fetters of death in which they have been bound. Them I conduct as captive to the messengers of death!

Lead ye them, O messengers of Death, ye messengers of Yama, enfold them. Let them in thousands be slain, may the Bhava's club smash them!

The sadhyas go holding up with might one stake of the net, the Rudras another, the Vasus one, still another is upheld by the Adityas.

Let all the gods go pressing from above with force, let the Angiras go on slaying the great army in the middle!

The forest trees and growths that are like trees together with the plants and herbs, bipeds and the quadrupeds, all do I impel to slay the yonder army!

The Gandharvas and Apsaras, serpents, the gods and the pious men, the Fathers, the Visible and invisible beings, do I impel to slay the yonder army.

Scattered here are the fetters of death, when stepped upon thou shalt not escape. May this hammer slay yonder army by thousands!

The sacrificial hot drink that has been heated on fire, this oblation shall slay in thousands. Do ye Bhava and Sarva slay yonder army!

May they fall into death's snare, into hunger, exhaustion, into deadly weapons and fear. O Indra, O Sarva, do ye slay yonder army with trap and snare.

Do ye flee away, O foes, being conquered repelled by or incantation, do ye run away. None of the yonder army shall escape when repulsed by Brihaspati.

Let their weapons fall down from their hands, let them not be able to fix the arrow on the bow. And then our arrows shall strike them, fearing much, in their vital parts.

May heaven and earth together yell at them, and the atmosphere, along with the gods. May they not find a helper nor a supporter, mutually smiting one another may they go unto death!

The four quarters are the she-mules of the chariot of gods; the sacrificial cakes are their hoofs, the atmosphere the seat, heaven and earth the two sides, the seasons, the reins, the intermediate realms the attendants, speech the road.

The year is the chariot, the full year the body of the chariot, Viraj the pole, Agni the front part, Indra the left stander, the moon the charioteer.

Do thou conquer on this side, on this side do thou conquer away, conquer fully, hail! Let these here be conquered, let those yonder be conquered, hail to these here, wail to those yonder! Those yonder do I wrap in blue and red!