Book 7: Hymn 74: A charm to cure pustules, sores, or scrofulous swellings (apachitas)

1Black is the mother, we have heard, from whom the red-hued Pustules sprang. With the divine ascetic's root I pierce and penetrate them all. 2I pierce the foremost one of these, I perforate the middlemost, And here I cut the hindermost asunder like a lock of hair. 3With spell that Tvashtar sent to us I have dispelled thy jealousy. We mitigate and pacify the anger that thou feltest, Lord! 4Lord of religious rites, by law, anointed, shine thou forth here for ever friendly-minded. So may we all with children, Jātavedas! worship and humbly wait on thee enkindled.