1
These quick Soma streams stir themselves like swift horses, Like chariots, like armies hurrying forth.
2
They move swiftly, as wide winds do, like storms of Parjanya's rain, And like the flickering flames of fire.
3
These Soma juices, blended with curds, pure and skilled in sacred songs, Have won by song their heart's desire.
4
Immortal, cleansed, since first they flowed, they never tire, To reach the realms and their paths.
5
They travel over the peaks of earth and sky, And this is the highest realm of all.
6
They reach the highest thread spun out, And this is deemed the most high.
7
You, Soma, rich in cattle you've seized from stingy owners, You called forth the spun-out thread.