The king of rivers, Soma, shines forth, purified and resplendent, the lord of heaven himself, coursing along the true paths with a voice that echoes like thunder. Tawny in hue, he streams with a thousand currents, his essence poured out and cleansed, generating the sacred speech and bestowing wealth upon all who honor him. O Purifier, you surge forth as a mighty wave, wondrous and radiant as the sun, unwavering in your courses. Bathed in the rays, pressed by men with stones, you flow for strength, prosperity, and abundance, your journey a source of nourishment for all. As you flow, O Purifying One, you bring sustenance and vigor, settling in the vessels like a falcon returning home. The exhilarating draught, pressed for Indra’s delight, is your rapture—lofty in spirit, discerning, the very pillar of the sky. Seven sisters, together with their mothers, have borne you, Soma—the wondrous, wise child, Gandharva of the waters, divine and visible to mortals, king over all the worlds. You, O Soma, master these realms for their increase, harnessing the green-winged ones, the swift rivers. May they pour for you honeyed ghee and milk, and by your command, Soma, may peoples abide in harmony. Among men you are all-seeing, O Purifying Bull, rushing everywhere. Flow for us, bringing wealth and gold, that we may dwell long in these worlds. Rich in cows, bringer of wealth, finder of gold, O Soma, you bear the seed of life and are established among the worlds. Heroic and all-knowing, you are praised by sages who come to sing your glory. Now the wave of honey, adorned with the waters, rises up; the mighty bull, clad in water, roars forth. The king, whose chariot is the filter, mounts his strength, and with a thousand streams, he wins great renown. He lifts up the bonds of limitation, bestowing offspring and life to all, granting bounties day by day. O Soma, together with Indra, grant us wealth with children, horses, and cattle through our sacred chants. That exhilarating draught, tawny and active, leads the days, awakening insight and following the radiant ones. Moving between peoples, he advances, upholding both human praise and the divine law. They adorn themselves, truly they do, stirring the mind and anointing themselves with honey. With golden hooves, they seize the bull as he plunges into the river’s surge. Sing to the wise, purifying one; like a great stream, Soma flows forth. Like a serpent shedding its skin, like a horse in delight, the tawny bull moves onward, ever-renewed. Foremost, kingly, and mighty, he shines—the purifier set in the realms of the days. Tawny, rich in clarified butter, beautiful and oceanic, with a chariot of light, Soma flows for wealth and shelter. The pillar is released, raised high in the sky, and its exhilaration pervades the triple world. Thoughts stir Soma’s flow when the skilled singers reach the press. The streams of the purified one, swift and bright, rush forth; the powers of pressed Soma are gathered and advance. When, O Indu, you are mingled with the cows in the vessel, well-pressed Soma, you settle in the jars. Flow forth, Soma, endowed with insight and worthy of praise. Circle the unclouded filter with your beloved sweetness. Strike down all demons and the malicious, O Indu, so that we may speak with great strength in the assembly. Run forth, Soma, gather round the vessel, purified by men, and rush toward the prize. Like a swift horse, cleansed, you are led to the sacred grass with reins. Armed with your own power, O god Indu, you are purified, destroyer of harm, protector of the people; father of the gods, creator, skillful, support of heaven, and foundation of earth. A seer, wise and the forerunner of peoples, skillful and inspired by poetry, you alone discovered what was hidden—the secret name of the cows. This honeyed Soma, O Indra, the bull, flows around the filter for the mighty. Bearing thousands, giving much, he establishes the enduring seat for the prize-winner. These Somas, seeking cattle, thousands strong, strive for strength, immortality, and fame. Purified by filters, they rush forth like chariot-fighters in glorious battle. For you, much-invoked and purified among peoples, Soma wins all food. Now bring the offerings borne by the eagle, increasing wealth, and rush toward the prize. This pressed Soma flows around the filter like a released stream, unimpeded; sharp-toothed as a buffalo with horns, seeking cows, like a hero in strength. She has gone forth from the farthest ridge, knowing the wide pastures, she finds the cows. Like lightning thundering among clouds, O Indra, your Soma stream is purified. You, Soma, purified, circle the herd of cows with Indra, yoked together; granting abundant, ancient gifts, bestow strength, O powerful one, let them praise you. This Soma, O Indra, I press for you, purified for your delight. You are its drinker, you have made it, strengthened it, Soma for joy and harnessing. He, like a broad-seated chariot, is yoked, bringing great treasures for victory. All the offspring of Nahusha, born of the sun, move upward, delighting in the forest. Like Vayu with his team, desired at sacrifice, like the two Asvins at the call, most gracious, like all-bestowing givers of wealth, like swift Pushan, so are you, Soma. You, Soma, are like Indra, performer of great deeds, slayer of obstacles; you are foremost. Like the thunderbolt-bearer, destroyer of serpentine foes, you vanquish every enemy. You are like Agni, released into the woods, freely creating energies in the rivers. Like a warrior among people, Soma, purified, you raise a mighty wave in battle. These Somas have crossed the wide barriers, like celestial vessels pouring rain from the clouds. Like rivers flowing to the sea, the pressed Somas stream forth to the vessels. Mighty as a host, Soma, purified, you rush forth like the Maruts, unassailable as the heavens. Swift as waters, bring us good fortune, you of a thousand streams, victorious in sacrifice and battle. Truly, the ordinances of King Varuṇa are yours; your abode, Soma, is vast and deep. Most pure, beloved as Mitra, skillful, you are like Aryaman. The fire is set in motion along its paths; like rain from the sky, the purified Soma flows. With a thousand streams, Soma settles for us in the lap of the mother, in the wood. King of rivers, you have chosen the best dwelling; you have mounted the swiftest boat of truth. In the waters, the drop has grown, yoked with the eagle; the father and his offspring together milk it. They praise the lion, the strong, tawny one, lord of the sky. The hero, foremost in battle, seeks the cows; with his gaze, the bull guards them all around. They yoke the fierce, honey-backed, formidable horse to the chariot with broad wheels and high stature. His sisters and kin cleanse him; those of one womb strengthen the spirited one. Four milkers of ghee attend him, seated together in the inner chamber. With reverence, they purify him, encircling him from all sides—the ancient ones. He is the prop of heaven, the support of earth; all the worlds rest in his hand. The well has settled, praised by singers; the drop of sweetness, Soma, flows for strength. Conquering like a new wind, Soma, purifier, approach the divine rite for Indra, slayer of obstacles. Grant us the wealth of radiant glory; may we be lords of heroic strength.