I saw a village moving, sick, circling with the ritual wheel, offered with oblations. Tied with force, the noble one for the generations of men—immediate in his virility—he brought forth new ones by binding.

I beheld the crowd coming from afar, moving of themselves without wheels; the lord of all, (Indra),regulates the seasons (worship of men), younger in vigour, destroying at once the herds of evil beings.

I saw a troop advancing from the distance moved, not by wheels but their own God-like nature. The Friendly One seeks human generations, destroying, still new bands of evil beings.