a The plants born
Three generations before the gods,
Of the brown ones I celebrate
The seven and a hundred abodes.
b A hundred, O mother, are your abodes,
A thousand too your shoots,
Therefore do ye, with a hundred powers,
Make him whole for me.
c With flowers, with shoots,
Fruit-bearing and without fruit,
Like steeds victorious
The plants are strong to help.
d 'Plants', O ye mothers,
I hail you, O goddesses;
Go bearing away defilement,
Defilement  destroying.
e In the Açvattha is your seat,
In the Parna is your dwelling made;
Cows shall in truth be your share
If ye shall gain this man.
f In that in strength I seize
These plants in my hand,
The soul of the disease perisheth,
As before one that taketh alive.
g When the plants come together
Like princes at the assembly,
Sage is the physician called,
Slayer of Raksases, overpowerer of diseases.
h Remover is your mother by name,
And ye are helpers;
Ye are winged streams ;
Remove whatever is unwell.
i Let one of you aid another,
Let one be of assistance to another;
All the plants in unison
Do ye further this speech of mine.
k The strength of the plants hath arisen
Like cows from the pasturage,
Of them that are fain to win gain,
To the self of thee, O man.
I Beyond all obstacles,
Like the thief the pen, they have strode,
The plants have shaken away
Every defilement in the body.
m Those  that have mounted thy self,
That have entered every limb,
May they repel thy disease,
Like a dread intercessor.
n O disease, do thou fly forth
With the eagle, the blue jay (kikidivi)
With the rush of the wind,
With the whirlwind do thou disappear.
o Rich in steeds, rich in Soma,
Full of strength, full of power,
I have found all the plants
For his safety.
p The fruitful, the fruitless,
The flowering, the flowerless,
Impelled by Brhaspati,
May they free us from tribulation.
q The  plants whose king is Soma,
And which have entered the earth,
Of them thou art the highest,
Impel us to long life.
r Falling from the sky
The plants said,
'He, whom we reach while in life,
Shall not come to ill.'
s Those that hear now
And those that are gone far away,
Coming all together here
Give ye him healing.
t May the digger of you come to no ill,
Nor he for whom I dig you;
May all our bipeds and quadrupeds
Be free from disease.
u The plants hold converse
With Soma, the king,
'The man for whom the Brahman prepares (us),
We, O king, bring to safety.'