They proclaim the sacred hymns; the people come clustering to the ear of the friend. Where horns sound and open the ways, this archer’s shaft spreads and crosses beyond.

This bowstring, drawn tight upon the bow, and making way in battle, repeatedly approaches the ear (of the warrior), as if embracing its friend (the arrow), and proposing to say something agreeable, as a woman whispers (to her husband).

Close to his car, as fain to speak, She presses, holding her well-loved Friend in her embraces. Strained on the Bow, She whispers like a woman-this Bowstring that preserves us in the combat.