1
From the mortar comes the juice, like a swift horse, to the sieve: The Steed advances to the finish line.
2
Thus, Soma, vigilant and skilled, cheering the gods, pass through the sieve, Turned to the vat that yields rich cream.
3
Excellent Pavamana, let the light shine brightly for us. Grant us mental prowess and skill.
4
You, adorned by devout people, and coming from their hands, flowing through the fine cloth, Flow through the straining cloth.
5
May Soma pour all the treasures of the sky, the earth, and the firmament Upon the generous worshipper.
6
You climb to the heights of heaven, O Soma, seeking horses and cattle, And seeking heroes, Lord of Strength!