b. Unto that god, Savitr, within the two bowls, The sage, I sing, him of true impulse, The bestower of treasures, unto tile wise friend; He at whose impulse the resplendent light shone high, The golden-banded sage hath measured the heaven with his form.
c. For offspring thee! For expiration thee! For cross-breathing thee! Breathe thou after offspring. Let offspring breathe after thee.