JUST AS A KING HAS PRESSURED SOMA, RED AND TAWNY BULL, THE WONDERFUL ONE HAS ROARED TO THE KINE. While purified, he passes through the filtering fleece to sit like a hawk on the spot that drips with oil.
YOU GO WITH GLORY, WISE WITH SKILL, LIKE A WELL-GROOMED HORSE YOU RUSH TO THE PRIZE. Oh Soma, be gracious, driving away distress; you go, dressed in butter, to a royal robe.
PARJANYA IS THE FATHER OF THE MIGHTY BIRD; ON MOUNTAINS IN EARTH'S CENTER HE HAS MADE HIS HOME. THE WATER SPIRITS TOO HAVE FLOWN TO THE KINE; HE MEETS THE PRESSING-STONES AT THE LOVED RITE.
YOU GIVE PLEASURE AS A WIFE DELIGHTS HER LORD. LISTEN, O CHILD OF PAJRI, FOR I SPEAK TO YOU. AMIDST THE HOLY SONGS GO ON THAT WE MAY LIVE; IN TIMES OF TRUBULE, SOMA, WATCH THOU FREE FROM BLAME.
AS TO THE MEN OF OLD YOU CAME UNHARMED TO STRENGTHEN, WINNING HUNDREDS, THOUSANDS; NOW FOR NEW FELICITY LET US ADVANCE; THE WATER SPIRITS FOLLOW AS YOUR LAW ORDAINS.