“ And you, Plantain, mother of herbs, Open from the east, mighty inside. over you chariots creaked, over you queens rode, over you brides cried out, over you bulls snorted. You withstood all of them, you dashed against them. May you likewise withstand poison and infection and the loathsome foe roving through the land. 'Stune' is the name of this herb, it grew on a stone, it stands up against poison, it dashes against poison Nettle (?) it is called, it attacks against poison, it drives out the hostile one, it casts out poison. ”
