1
Hitherward, Soma flows, its drops purified, while they are washed clean in water.
2
Like a flood, the milk runs to meet it, as it comes to Indra, cleansed.
3
O Soma Pavamana, you flow to Indra’s drink, captured by men, you are led.
4
Victorious, hailed with joy, O Soma, flow to delight men, rulers of mankind.
5
You, Indu, when by stones you run to the filter, ready for Indra’s high decree.
6
Flow on, best Vṛtra-slayer, flow meet to be praised, pure, purifying, wonderful.
7
Pure, purifying is called the Soma, slayer of sinners, dear to gods.