Nine and ninety new poisons, the swollen ones of poison: Harishta joined for him the name of death for all their entirety; he made sweet for you and made sweet the bees.

I recite the names of ninety and nine (rivers), the destroyers of poison; although afar off, (the Sun), drawn by his coursers, will overtake the poison; the science of antidotes has converted you, (Poison), to ambrosia.

Of ninety rivers and of nine with power to stay the venom's course,- The names of all I have secured: his path is far: he whom Bay Horses bear hath turned thee to sweet meath.