Atharva Veda · 307 of 724

HYMN CXXXIX

A woman’s love-charm 1. Thou hast grown up, a source of joy to bless me with pros-    perity.   A hundred are thy tendrils, three-and-thirty thy descending    shoots.   With this that bears a thousand leaves I dry thy heart and    wither it. 2. Let thy heart wither for my love and let thy month be dry for    me.   Parch and dry up with longing, go with lips that love of me    hath dried. 3. Drive us together, tawny! fair! a go-between who wakens    love.   Drive us together, him and me, and give us both one heart and    mind. 4. Even as his mouth is parched who finds no water for his burn-    ing thirst,   So parch and burn with longing, go with lips that love of me    hath dried. 5. Even as the Mungoose bites and rends and then restores the    wounded snake,   So do thou, Mighty one, restore the fracture of our severed    love.