1. For thee alone, O (death from) old age, this (boy) shall grow up: the other hundred kinds of death shall not harm him! Like a provident mother in her lap Mitra shall befriend him, shall save him from misfortune! 2. May Mitra or Varuna, the illustrious, cooperating, grant him death from old age! Then Agni, the priest, who knows the ways, promulgates all the races of the gods. 3. Thou, (O Agni), rulest over all the animals of the earth, those which have been born, and those which are to be born: may not in-breathing leave this one, nor yet out-breathing, may neither friends nor foes slay him! 4. May father Dyaus (sky) and mother Prithivi (earth), co-operating, grant thee death from old age, that thou mayest live in the lap of Aditi a hundred winters, guarded by in-breathing and outbreathing! 5. Lead this dear child to life and vigour, O Agni, Varuna, and king Mitra! As a mother afford him protection, O Aditi, and all ye gods, that he may attain to old age!AV 3.31 · Atharva Veda · 3
AV 3.31
Atharva Veda · translated by Maurice Bloomfield
Themes in this passage
DeathFamilyNatureChildrenFriendshipLeadershipLonelinessProtection
Death in other traditions
The same theme, as Christianity, Islam, Taoism and Hellenism address it.
And the children of Israel spake unto Moses, saying, Behold, we die, we perish, we all perish.Numbers 17:12 · Bible · Numbers
Lo! thou wilt die, and lo! they will die;Quran 39:30 · Quran · The Companies
The people do not fear death; to what purpose is it to (try to) frighten them with death? If the people were always in awe of death, and I could always seize those who do wrong, and put them to death, who would dare to do wrong?Tao Te Ching 74.1 · Tao Te Ching
These words, attended with a shower of tears, The youth address’d to unrelenting ears: “Talk not of life, or ransom (he replies): Patroclus dead, whoever meets me, dies: In vain a single Trojan sues for grace; But least, the sons of Priam’s hateful race. Die then, my friend! what boots it to deplore? The great, the good Patroclus is no more! He, far thy better, was foredoom’d to die, And thou, dost thou bewail mortality? Seest thou not me, whom nature’s gifts adorn, Sprung from a hero, from a goddess born? The day shall come (which nothing can avert) When by the spear, the arrow, or the dart, By night, or day, by force, or by design, Impending death and certain fate are mine! Die then,”—He said; and as the word he spoke, The fainting stripling sank before the stroke: His hand forgot its grasp, and left the spear, While all his trembling frame confess’d his fear: Sudden, Achilles his broad sword display’d, And buried in his neck the reeking blade. Prone fell the youth; and panting on the land, The gushing purple dyed the thirsty sand. The victor to the stream the carcase gave, And thus insults him, floating on the wave:Iliad 21.7 · Iliad · 21
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