Soma, flow on with a pleasant stream, a devoted Bull to the Gods, Our friend, to the woollen sieve.
Pour hitherward, as Indra’s Self, Indu, that gladdening stream of thine, And send us coursers full of strength.
Flow to the filter hitherward, pouring that ancient gladdening juice, Streaming forth power and high renown.
Hither the sparkling drops have flowed, like waters down a steep descent, They have reached Indra purified.
Whom, having passed the filter, ten dames cleanse, as ’twere a vigorous steed, While he disports himself in the wood—
The strong-juice steer pours forth milk for feast and service of the Gods, For him who bears away the draught.
Effused, the God flows onward with his stream to Indra, to the God, So that his milk may strengthen him.
Soul of the sacrifice, the juice effused flows quickly on: he keeps His ancient wisdom of a Sage.
So pouring forth, as Indra’s Friend, strong drink, best Gladdener! for the feast, Thou, even in secret, storest hymns.