In the sacred rite, Soma is pressed with a resounding sound into the vessel, accompanied by the cows. Passing through the careful filter, he casts away all that is impure. Purified and freed, like a horse released from its yoke, Soma flows onward, destined for Indra’s belly. Flow sweetly, O Soma, for the divine birth, for Indra, the generous bestower of gifts. Flow, too, for Mitra, Varuna, Vayu, and Brihaspati—unfailing, honeyed Soma, pour forth your sweetness. Ten fingers cleanse you in the vessel, and the inspired ones raise their voices in praise. The purified Somas, exhilarating in their power, approach and enter Indra. Purified, O Soma, you advance to great strength, to wide, cattle-rich spaces, to a vast, spreading shelter. May no enclosure restrain us; with you, Soma, may we win wealth upon wealth. The wise bull has ascended the sky; the sage shines through the two luminous realms. Roaring, the king passes through the filter, while men of vision draw forth the nectar of heaven. In the vault of the sky, the shining ones, with honeyed tongues, milk the bull who dwells on the mountain. In the waters, the growing drop, in the ocean, from the river’s wave, Soma enters the honey-rich filter. High above, ancient songs have praised the soaring eagle; thoughts seek the golden bird, the radiant child standing on earth. The Gandharva, high in the sky, perceives all forms; his pure brilliance shines forth, illuminating both mothers—earth and heaven. Swift and purified, Soma’s exhilarating streams rush forth like quick horses. The divine, honeyed Somas, most intoxicating, gather around the vessel. Your exhilarating, intoxicating, swift streams flow each on their own path, like chariots. As a cow seeks her calf, the honeyed Somas, like waves, flow with milk for Indra, the wielder of the bolt. Like an eager horse, Soma rushes toward the prize—the resounding vessel, the stone, the heavenly mother. The bull, Soma, is purified on the unaging slope, prepared for strength and Indra’s enjoyment. Swift, divine streams of Soma flow forth with milk into the vessel, sent forth by the ancient seers who cleanse him. All abodes, all-seeing Ribhus, the rays of the mighty abiding one, circle around you. Soma, purified by the laws, is the lord of all beings, the king. On both sides, the rays of the steadfast, purified one circle around; when the tawny one is cleansed in the filter, he sits in his place in the vessels. The sign of sacrifice, the purified and well-ordered Soma, approaches the seat of the gods. With a thousand streams, he circles the vessel; the bull, roaring, passes through the filter. The king enters the ocean; the rivers part before him. He unites with the wave of the waters, established among the streams. The purified one takes his place on the unaging summit, at the navel of the earth, the support of great heaven. Like the summit of heaven, thundering and resounding, whose law both heaven and earth observe—Soma, purified, sits in the vessels, seeking Indra’s friendship. The radiant one of sacrifice flows, sweet and beloved, father of the gods, creator, all-encompassing. He bestows a precious treasure, worthy of offerings, most intoxicating, powerful, the essence full of might. Resounding, Soma rushes toward the vessel, seeking the prize, lord of heaven, with a hundred discerning streams. The tawny one sits in the dwellings of Mitra, purified by the rivers, the bull among streams. Foremost among rivers, the purified one rushes forth; foremost in speech, he goes among the cows; foremost in strength, he claims great wealth, armed with his own power, purified by the pressers, the bull. Inspired, like a bird set free, the purified one surges in a wave. By your will, O sage Soma, pure with insight, you flow between heaven and earth for Indra. Clad in a shining robe, reaching the worshipper, touching the sky, set in the worlds, knowing the sun, Soma ascends through the clouds, summoning the ancient father from afar. He grants great protection to his worshipper, the one who first recognized his abode. His step is in the highest heaven; from there, he approaches all things, united. Indu advances for Indra’s purification—a friend who never forsakes, like a youth mingling with maidens. Soma flows into the vessel along the hundredfold path. Your delightful, wise, and fruitful thoughts have entered the gatherings; with intention, they seek Soma, hymning, as cows seek milk, they approach the nourishing one. Soma, grant us your abundant, nourishing flow; O Indu, purify yourself, O purifying one, without delay. Bestow upon us, three times daily, the ever-flowing, fertile, rich, sweet, heroic strength. The mighty one among thoughts, Soma the discerning, flows forth. Pressed at dawn, he shines with the light of heaven’s dawns. Roaring, he enters the vessels of the rivers, pouring into the jars, entering Indra’s heart with the inspired. With the inspired, the ancient sage flows; with men, he roars around the vessels. Creating the name of Trita, he pours out sweet mead, to accomplish the friendship of Indra and Vayu. Purified, he makes the dawns shine; he becomes the maker of space among the rivers. Soma, thrice seven times, has milked the nourishing essence; lovely and exhilarating, he is purified for the heart. Purify yourself, Soma, in the divine abodes; flow, O Indu, into the vessel through the filter. Roaring, sit in Indra’s belly, with men guiding you; raise up the Sun in the sky. Pressed with stones, Soma flows through the filter, entering into Indra’s belly. Discerning among men, he becomes the wise one; Soma opens the cow-stall for the Angirases. The inspired ones, seeking aid, have enjoyed the self-purifying Soma. The splendid-winged one brought him from the sky, adorned with all thoughts. Seven cows, longing for the tawny one, surround the purified Soma with their wave-like streams. In the lap of the waters, the pressing stones seek the sage, the great one, in the womb of truth. The purified drop passes beyond all hostilities, making good paths for the worshipper. Creating cows and clearing the way, the delightful sage, playful as a horse, flows around the enclosure. From all sides, a hundred streams pour forth, seeking the radiant one, as waters rush toward their channel. Swift ones cleanse him, wrapped in cows, on the third back, upon the shining realm of heaven. These offspring are yours, Soma, from the divine seed; you are ruler of all worlds. Thus, all this universe, O Purifying One, is under your control; you are the first to hold the abode. You are the ocean, all-knowing sage; for you, these five regions are established. You have embraced both heaven and earth; your lights, O Purifying One, are the sun. Soma, purified in the strainer, is cleansed for the gods, set in the order of the firmament. The first-born seers grasped you, and for you all the worlds have been yoked. The powerful one, roaring forth, goes beyond the unceasing barrier; the tawny one sets his wheel among the woods. The inspired thoughts, longing, follow together; the hymns press the child who is to be purified. He, weaving the thread with the sun’s rays, spreads it out skillfully in threefold fashion. Leading forth the newer commands of truth, the lord of beings approaches the place of purification.