1
THIS chariot rushes through the woolen sieve, as it goes To battle that wins a thousand prizes.
2
THE wives of Trita with the stones urge on this Golden One Indu to Indra for his drink.
3
TEN nimble fingers carefully adorn him here; they make him bright And beautiful for the joyful drink.
4
HE like a falcon settles among the clans of men. Moving like a lover to his love.
5
THIS youthful invigorating juice looks downward from its place in heaven, This Soma drop that pierced the sieve.
6
Poured for the drink, this golden juice Flows forth, intelligent, crying out, To the beloved place.