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Mandala IX

HYMN XCVIII. Soma Pavamana

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1

May we be blessed with wealth sought by many, most victorious Indu, thousands-fold, glorious, conquering the great.

2

Effulgent, he has spread, like a chariot, enveloped him in woolly armor; Indu flows in streams, propelled by wood, surrounding it.

3

Effulgent, Indu flows, distilling joy, to the fleece; He strides forward, seeking cows in the stream, with light, to sacrifice.

4

For you, O Indu, God, attract all mortals with your wealth, Thousandfold, manifest in hundred forms; good Vṛtra-slayer, make us nearest to your bounty, Nearest to sustenance and happiness, Unyielding One!

5

Bright with native splendor, crushed between the two stones, The wavy Friend whom Indra loves—twice five sisters dip and bathe, Purifying him, brown and golden-hued, beloved of all; Who with invigorating juice goes forth to all the Deities.

6

With longing for this sap, you drink what brings capability, Even him who, dear as heaven’s own light, grants high renown to our princes.

7

Indu, at holy rites, produced you, Heaven and Earth, the Friends of men, Hill-haunting God, the Goddesses. They crushed him where the roar was loud.

8

For Vṛtra-slaying Indra, you, Soma, are poured so he may drink, Poured for the giver of rewards, poured for the God who sits there.

9

Ancient Somas, at dawn, flow into the sieve, Snorting away at early morning, foolish, evil-hearted ones.

10

May the princes, you and we, obtain this Most Resplendent One. Gain him who smells of strength, win him whose home is very strength.

Source: Sacred Texts Archive
Hymn 97Hymn 99