Beneath those who lie by the doors, he cried with a loud voice, he cried with a loud voice from both banks of the river K’shash, the river whose waters are dragons and whose waves are scorpions. In it are firebrands, at its two banks are noisy chains, at its mouth is set a vessel for disembodied spirits (? lšalahiata). They take it firmly and hold it back there.
Those who philander and steal will not cross the river K’shash. Wizards and witches will not cross the river K’shash. Informers and snitches will not cross the river K’shash. Those who shift boundaries will not cross the river K’shash. Those who move boundary stones will not cross the river K’shash.
I, however, will plunge deep into the river, the river K’shash, because I’m ready, because I am a son of the Life. The dragons will not attack me, none of the scorpions will bite me. The fire will not consumed me, none of the chains will destroy me. They will not throw me into the vessel, because I am Kushṭa, and the scent of the Life is upon me.
The Life is exalted; the Life is victorious.