The sacred Soma, sweet and pure, began its journey like gentle cows hurrying to their calf, each drop flowing eagerly toward the divine. Upon the sacred grass, the bright and unsullied offering was carefully placed, accompanied by ritual chants and vessels, as the worshippers honored the god. With a mighty roar, surpassing those who came before, the tawny Soma ascended, releasing its sweetness. Passing through the filter with wide-spread might, the godly essence laid aside its darts, always seeking the highest and best. This wise one, who measures out the twin yamas—the paired moments or measures—mingled with milk, distinguished the vast and boundless realms, bestowing unfailing strength as he advanced. Moving with his mothers and winning riches, Soma swelled his own path with power. Adorned with barley, the sacred drop, purified by men, sat among its kin, guarding the very head of the rite. Born with skill and wisdom, the sage—embryo of truth—was set by those who restrain, the first-born though still young, hidden in secret, their birth not yet revealed to the world. The wise discerned the form of this delightful one, recalling how the falcon brought the precious drop from afar. In the flowing rivers, Soma was cleansed and ever-growing, circling eagerly, fit for the hymns of praise. Ten maidens, pure and skillful, cleansed Soma, the pressed one, as seers set him forth with thoughts and prayers, with waters and coverings, and divine invocations, wherever wealth was to be found and attained. Thus the wise praised Soma, the good companion, the well-lauded, as he moved in ritual. With honeyed waves and flowing voice, the immortal, rich in treasures, raised his song. Purified, Soma lifted his voice to the expanse of heaven, settling in the vessels, washed with waters and cows, pressed by stones, finding the beloved path. So, as Soma was poured, the worshippers prayed: “Grant us splendid vigor, O Soma. Let us invoke undivided Heaven and Earth. O gods, bestow upon us wealth and heroic sons.” As an arrow is fitted to a bow, so were their thoughts directed to the offering, seeking Soma as a calf seeks its mother, as a cow yields her first milk. The sweet and melodious thought approached, poured out and stirring within the vessel. Purified and flowing, Soma spread, its rich drops passing through the filter like a striker’s blow. Around the skin Soma flowed, loosening it, the offspring of Aditi striving for truth. The tawny one, harnessed and born of sacrifice, shone with strength like a mighty bull. The bull bellowed, and the cows approached; the divine ones gathered at the god’s place. Soma crossed the bright filter, the unfailing barrier, and like a freshly washed garment, he spread out. Clad in an immortal, shining garment, the tawny, undying Soma, purified, touched the heights of heaven. His seat was prepared, a cloud’s covering woven from the sky. Like sunrays—swift, eager, and full of desire—the streams of Soma moved together, threads stretched, flowing around; nothing was purified apart from Indra’s abode. Like currents in a river’s descent, the streams rushed to their goal, driven by strength. The worshippers prayed that Soma would bring blessing to their dwelling, for both two-footed and four-footed creatures, so that wealth and people might abide with them. “Purify for us,” they implored, “wealth with gold, horses, cattle, barley, and mighty strength—for you, Soma, are our fathers, standing on heaven’s summit, creators of life.” Purified Somas went forth to Indra, like chariots racing to victory, moving through the filter unhindered, leaving their enclosure, the tawny ones going to the rain. “Flow, Soma, for mighty Indra—gentle, faultless, bestower of gifts. Bring shining treasures for the singer. May Heaven and Earth, with the gods, protect us.” Three times seven cows had milked for Soma, giving true nourishment in the ancient sky. Four other worlds he purified, making them beautiful, growing by the laws of truth. Seeking the lovely nectar, Soma spread both heaven and earth with wisdom. The powerful waters, in greatness, spread out, knowing the seat by the fame of the god. Let these be his immortal, invincible signs, following both his births; with these, strength and divine power purify. Then the wise seized the king Soma with their thoughts. Cleansed by ten skilled ones, he joined his mothers in the midst. Drinking the vows of the lovely nectar, he saw both races with a human eye. Purified for power and vision, Soma delighted in both ends of heaven, well-placed. The bull, with force, drove away evil thoughts, advancing sharp as an arrow, ever attentive. Like a calf unseen by his mothers, he bellowed, his voice like the Maruts. Knowing the first truth, the golden one, the wise chose his desire for praise. The mighty bull roared with power, sharpening his horns, tawny and perceptive. Soma sat in the well-made womb; his skin became bovine, purified for the cows. Pure and spotless, the tawny one settled on the ridge, favored for Mitra, Varuna, and Vayu, the triple nectar crafted with skillful acts. “Purify, Soma, for divine favor, for mighty Indra’s heart. Lead us across past troubles, remove obstacles, show us the field, answer the seeker.” Like a harnessed team, Soma surged toward the prize, entering Indra’s belly, purifying himself. Like a boat crossing a river, he passed through the sea with knowledge; like a hero in battle, he protected his devotees. Released to the right, powerful, Soma took his seat, ever-watchful, driving away the hostile and the demon. He fashioned the tawny rope, sought the sky, and spread out the sacred grass for the pressing priest’s chant. Rushing forth like a champion, roaring loudly, he removed darkness from his appearance, leaving his covering to go to his father’s dwelling, making the sacred place manifest with his presence. Pressed by stones, Soma was purified in the hands, growing strong, trembling in the sky with the chant. He rejoiced, sat, and prospered with the hymn, adorned in the waters and worshipped in the expanse. Around the shining, mighty, mountain-nourished one, honey was poured at the house’s pillar. In him, the cows, well-invoked, pressed the foremost head with their paths at the udder. Together, like a chariot, the ten sisters hastened at Aditi’s lap. Soma advanced, seeking the hidden track of the cow—the path skillfully created for him. Like an eagle seeking its nest, Soma sought the seat made by thought—the golden seat where the god sits. There, with hymns, they sought the beloved on the sacred grass; like a horse, the worshipful one approached the gods. Manifest, red, and seer of the sky, the bright one, strong and three-backed, reached the cows. With a thousand streams, he resounded, shining forth widely like the ancient dawns. Soma took a fierce form, his color bright; wherever he rested, he broke through barriers, going to the waters by his own power, to the divine people, rejoicing in praise with the foremost of cows. Like a bull circling his herds, Soma moved loudly, shining, following the sun’s path. The divine eagle looked down upon the earth; Soma, with wisdom, beheld all races. The tawny one was cleansed, yoked like a red horse, mixed in the vessel with the cows. He sent forth speech, stirring the chant. Of the much-praised Soma, the worshippers wondered: how many are truly dear? Thus, the journey of Soma was celebrated—his purity, his strength, his blessings—flowing through the rites, ascending to the gods, and bringing prosperity, wisdom, and protection to all who honored him.