The mighty bulls, yoked together with the great Bull, set themselves to the sacred task: with stones they press the Soma, drawing forth its milk by their sheer strength. In their labor, Soma becomes the delight of Trita and the exhilarating draught for Indra, adorned in his tawny splendor with ever-changing forms. The mothers of Prishni, radiant and nurturing, draw out the very summit of this immortal essence, offering the most lovely and beloved libation. With one intent mind, unceasing songs rise toward Soma, as eager cows low in anticipation. Soma, the purifier, is invoked to flow through the filter, bringing with him abundant wealth and revealing divine light for the worshippers. O Indu, swell and surge toward the cosmic ocean, stirring all creation, supporting wealth and strength for your devotees. With Soma’s heroic power, may we, too, become heroes and overcome our foes in battle, that all desirable riches may flow to us. Soma, ever-seeking strength, pursues the prize, guided by the sage who knows the sacred ordinances and weapons. With our songs, we send forth the purified, swelling Soma—the lord of all people—whom all trust as the upholder of order and mighty strength. Soma is sent forth like a skillful charioteer, pressed and ready in the vessel, swiftly setting out on his destined path. He, the awakened fire, flows with divine vigor toward the vessel brimming with sweetness. Purifier, shine forth for us the ancient lights; grant us wisdom and skill. Cleansed by the hands of those who live by truth, Soma flows in the ageless vessel, ever pure. May Soma purify all treasures for the worshipper—those of heaven, earth, and the midspace. Horse-born and cow-seeking, Soma ascends to the summit of heaven, bestowing heroism and lordly might. Pressed and mighty, he flows through the filter for our drinking, a godly force that drives away the Rakshasas. Discerning and powerful, the tawny one rushes forth, bellowing toward his sacred womb. Purified and vigorous, Soma runs across the shining realms of heaven, slaying demons and seeking unfailing shelter. On Trita’s summit, he shines forth with his kindred and the Sun. As the bull, the pressed Soma, the slayer of Vritra, he grants wide space to his worshippers, rushing like a steed toward strength. Impelled by the sage, Soma runs to the vessels, the precious drop offered to Indra in greatness. This bull, like an unwearying chariot, flows with protection, seeking the thousandfold prize. The tawny one, maiden of Trita, is pressed with stones—the drop prepared for Indra’s delight. Ten bright fingers cleanse and adorn him for exhilaration. Among men, Soma sits like an eagle in their gatherings, advancing like a lover to his beloved. The exhilarating juice, child of heaven, reveals itself, entering the shelter as the cherished drop. Pressed and tawny, Soma surges forth for drinking, crying out powerfully toward the beloved womb. Inspired and lofty of mind, he rushes with radiant light to where the gods proclaim, “He has come.” Cleansing all that is impure, guiding the people, and driving away darkness, Soma pours down the rain of heaven. Through the filter, he comes, bearing brilliance and strength, shining forth with discernment. Swiftly he flows, encircling the sky, pouring out the waves of the celestial river. From near and far, Soma calls, poured as honey for Indra. In harmony, the priests press the tawny one with stones, and Soma sits content in the womb of the covering. The purifier moves forward, overcoming all hostilities with wisdom, as the inspired ones adorn the sage with their thoughts. The reddish Soma, pressed, ascends to the womb, coming to Indra and settling in the firm seat. Now, O mighty Indu, O Soma, pour forth abundant wealth from every side; flow for us, bringing thousands. O Soma, O purifier, let your streams bring all glories and grant us wealth of thousands. O purifier, bring us wealth worthy of praise, heroic strength, and increase the songs of the singer. Soma, bring us wealth with double force, O strong Indu, you who are ever worthy of praise.