1
Flow on, O you of noble thoughts, flow swiftly in your beloved form, Saying, I go where the gods reside.
2
Prepare what has not yet been prepared, and bring food to man, Make the rain descend from heaven.
3
With might, granting power, the juice passes through the purifying sieve, Far-sighted, sending out its light.
4
This is it that flows rapidly down from heaven alongside the river’s wave, From the heavens onto the strained cloth.
5
Inviting him from afar and even close by, the juice Is poured out for Indra.
6
They have sung the hymn together; with stones they urge the Golden One. Sit in the place of sacrifice.