The sincere ones sing praise to Indra's dear companion, As new calves nurse their mothers in the dawn of life.
O Indu, purify yourself and bring Soma, double wealth That in the worshipper's home you make all treasures grow.
Loosen the song that mind has bound, as thunder frees the rain: All treasures of the earth and sky, O Soma, you multiply.
Your flow, when pressed, runs like a victorious warrior’s steed, Hastening through the fleece like a fierce horse winning the prize.
Flow on, Sage Soma, with your stream to give us mental might and strength, Effused for Indra, for his drink, for Mitra and Varuṇa.
Flow to the filter with your stream, best in spoils, to Indra, Viṣṇu, and the gods, O Soma, as sweetest for them all.
The mothers, without deceit, embrace you, Golden One, in the sieve, As cows, O Pavamana, lick the new-born calf, as Law says.
You, Pavamana, move with radiant beams to great fame. Within the votary's house you drive all darkness away.
Lord of great sway, you lift yourself above the heavens, above the earth. You, Pavamana, have donned your armor in majesty.