In the sacred tradition, the seer stands at the threshold of earth and sky, invoking the boundless healing power of the plants. He calls upon all herbs—those that are brown and bright, red and speckled, black and dark—summoning every color and kind to his aid. These plants, whose father is the sky and mother is the earth, whose very roots reach into the ocean’s depths, are asked to protect a man from diseases sent by the gods. He prays that the divine waters and the foremost of herbs may drive all illness from the man’s body, from every limb and part. To the spreading and restraining plants, the single-spiked and expanding, the radiant and thorny, the many-branched and mighty universal plants—the givers of life—he calls. With their strength, enduring power, and might, the seer prepares the remedy, asking the herbs to release the afflicted one from disease. He invokes the living, unfailing, and life-giving herbs—the ever-rising, flowering, and honey-sweet—to grant safety. He calls upon the wise, earth-born plants to heed his words, so together they may deliver the man from misfortune. He gathers the food of Agni, the embryo of the waters, and those herbs that grow again and again, requesting the thousand-named, steadfast healing plants to be brought forth. He asks the water-essenced herbs, with downward-pointing stalks and sharp points, to drive away misfortune. He calls on the fierce herbs—those that release poison, destroy strength and food, and remove sorcery—to be set free for healing. He prays that the praised and powerful plants, once invoked, protect the cattle, horses, people, and all animals in the village. The seer describes the sweetness of herbs: their roots, tips, middles, leaves, and flowers are all sweet, born of honey, the food of immortality, yielding ghee and nourishment for cow and bull. As many and as great as the herbs are on earth, he asks that the thousand-leaved ones release him from death and harm. He invokes the tiger-stone of plants, which protects from curses and wards off disease and danger. He prays that, as the roar of a lion or the crackling of fire scatters, so too may the plants drive away the disease of cattle and men, sending the flow of illness to the river. The herbs, released from the universal fire and spreading over the earth under the Lord of the Forest’s kingship, have grown. The Angirasa herbs, growing on mountain and plain, are called to be rich in milk and bring well-being to the heart. He invokes all herbs—those known, seen, unknown, and learned together—that they may heed his words as he leads the man from misfortune. He names the sacred fig, darbha grass, Soma the king, rice and barley, the immortal offering, and all remedies, children of heaven, immortal. He calls the herbs to rise up, thundering and crying aloud, when the rain-bringing cloud—their variegated mother—pours down her seed. The seer prays that the strength of immortality be imparted to the man, preparing the remedy so he may live a hundred autumns. He calls upon the boar and mongoose, the serpents and Gandharvas—those who know the plants and remedies—for help. He summons the winged ones, the Angirasa plants, those known by the Raghaṭa, the birds, swans, all flying creatures, and wild animals who know the herbs. He asks that as many herbs as cows and goats eat, so many, O gathered ones, may grant protection. As many remedies as the physicians among men know, so many universal remedies he brings. He prays that flowering, blossoming, fruit-bearing, and even fruitless plants—like mothers yielding milk—grant freedom from harm. The seer declares that he has removed the fivefold and tenfold fetters, the snare of Yama, and all divine transgressions from the afflicted one. Turning to protection in battle, he invokes mighty Indra, the powerful and heroic Shakra, who breaks cities and crushes enemies as men strike down thousands of hostile armies. He calls for the foul cord of swelling to make the enemy army foul, for the smoke to reveal the fire, and for fear to fill the enemies’ hearts. He commands the Ashvattha to cut off foes, Khadira and Arjuna to devour them, and for them to be shattered like brittle reeds, struck down by the slayer’s weapons. The harsh are to be made harsh by the Harsh-named, shattered like arrows, bound together in a great net. The net, spread in the sky with its staves to the directions and the earth, is the weapon with which Shakra struck down the armies of the Dasyus. Great indeed is the net of mighty Shakra, the possessor of horses, with which all enemies are subdued so none escape. With this net, Indra, heroic and powerful, struck down hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands, even a hundred thousand Dasyus, attacking with his army. This world itself becomes the net of Shakra; with Indra’s net, the seer envelops all enemies in darkness. Fever, fierce growth, distress, banishment, fatigue, weariness, and delusion—by these, he envelops the enemies. He delivers them to death, bound with the snares of death, handing them over to the messengers and agents of Yama. Let the messengers of death lead them away; let thousands upon thousands be slain and become as grass by the might of the Slayer. The Sādhyas, the Rudras, the Vasus, and the Ādityas each raise a net-staff with power, joining in the act of divine protection and victory. Thus, the seer’s prayers unite the healing of herbs and the might of the gods—invoking all forces of the earth, sky, and divine realms for the well-being of man and the defeat of all that threatens him.