Pour, O Soma, wealth in thousands and heroic strength,
And keep our renown secure.
Thou makes food and vigor swell for Indra, best of gladeners!
Within the cups thou sittest.
For Indra and Viṣṇu, Soma flows into the jar:
May Vāyu find it rich in sweetness.
These swift and brown Soma drops, in the solemn stream of sacrifice,
Flow through twisted obstacles, performing noble deeds.
Driving away the godless ones, Indra's strength augmenting,
Active and augmenting Indra's power.
Brown Soma drops, seeking Indra, flow to their proper place,
Through the region hitherward.
With that stream, give light to Sūrya, urging on waters good to men.
Pavamana, high above man, yokes the Sun's horse Etaśa,
To travel through the realm of air.
Those ten coursers, tawny-hued, harness them so the Sun may come,
Indu, he says, is Indra himself.
Singers, pour the gladdening juice to Vāyu and Indra,
Pour the drops upon the fleece.
O Soma Pavamana, find wealth for us not to be attacked,
Wealth that the foe cannot win.
Send riches hither in thousands, both of steeds and cattle,
Send spoil of war and high renown.
Soma, the God, flowing with stones like Sūrya,
Pour the juice within the jar.
Brilliant drops pour for us, in the solemn sacrifice,
Worshipful laws and strength in cattle.
Over the cleansing sieve, Somas blend with curdled milk,
Effused for Indra, Thunder-armed.
Soma, most sweet in taste, dear to gods, flow to the sieve,
Bring us wealth.
For Indra, living men adorn the Tawny Courser in the streams, Indu, the giver of delight.
Pour for us, Soma, wealth in gold, in horses and heroic sons,
Bring hither strength in herds of cattle.
For battle as it were in war, pour for us, Soma, wealth in herds,
Strength in the flocks of cattle.
Singers, seeking help, adorn the Sage who must be decked with songs:
Loud bellowing the Steer comes on.
The singers with their thoughts and hymns cause Soma, active Steer, to roar.
Gods working with mankind, flow on; to Ind