Soma, flow on, inviting Gods, speed to the purifying cloth: Enter Indra, as a Bull.
As mighty food speed hitherward, Indu, as a most splendid Steer: Sit in thy place as one with strength.
The well-loved meath was made to flow, the stream of the creative juice by the Sage drew waters to himself.
The mighty waters, yea, the floods accompany thee Mighty One, When thou wilt clothe thee with the milk.
The lake is brightened in the floods. Soma, our Friend, heaven's prop and stay, Falls on the purifying cloth.
The tawny Bull hath bellowed, fair as mighty Mitra to behold: He shines together with the Sun.
Songs, Indu, active in their might are beautified for thee, wherewith Thou deckest thee for our delight.
To thee who givest ample room we pray, to win the joyous draught: Great are the praise& due to thee.
Indu as, Indra's Friend, on us pour with a stream of sweetness, like Parjanya sender of the rain.
Winner of kine, Indu, art thou, winner of heroes, steeds, and strength Primeval Soul of sacrifice.