Spell for being transformed into a heron
I am the mightiest of the bulls, I am the forceful one among them, I am the twin braided locks which are on the head of the shorn priest, whom they of the sunshine worship, whose stroke is sharp. I am vindicated on earth, and the terror of me is in the sky - and vice versa; it is my strength which makes me victorious to the height of the sky, I am held in respect to the breadth of the sky, my strides are towards the towns of the Silent Land. I have gone and reached Wenu; I have ejected the gods from their paths, I have struck down those who are wakeful within their shrines. I do not know the Abyss, I do not know the ermerging earth, I do not know the red ones who thrust with their horns, I do not know the magician, but I hear his words; I am this Wild Bull who is in the writings.
Thus said the gods when they lamented the past: 'On your faces! He has come to you while the dawn lacks you, and there is none who will protect you.' My faults are in my belly, and I will not declare them; O Authority, wrong-doing is of yesterday, but righteousness is of today. Righteousness runs on my eyebrows on the night of the festival 'The Old Woman lies down and her land is guarded.'
