The Somas, radiant and powerful, surge forth in pursuit of cattle and abundance, their numbers vast, striving for strength, immortality, and renown. Purified through the filters, these flowing ones rush out with the vigor and glory of chariot-warriors entering battle. For you, much-invoked and purified among the people, they win all nourishment and now bring offerings borne by the eagle, seeking to increase wealth and hasten toward the prize. Pressed Soma moves around the filter, like a stream released, unimpeded and free; sharp-toothed as a buffalo with horns, it seeks cows, displaying heroism and strength. She—the Soma—has journeyed from the farthest ridge, as if she knows the wide pastures, and has found the cows. Like lightning flashing from the sky and thundering among clouds, O Indra, your Soma’s stream is purified. Soma, purified, circles the herd of cows alongside Indra, yoked together, bestowing ancient and abundant gifts. Grant us strength, O mighty one, and let all praise you. This Soma I press for you, O Indra; it is purified for your delight, for harnessing. You are its drinker and its maker, you have strengthened it for joy. Like a chariot with a broad seat, Soma is yoked, bringing great treasures for victory. The offspring of Nahusha, born of the sun, ascend joyfully, delighting in the forest. Soma is like Vayu with his team, desired at sacrifice, like the two Asvins at the call, most gracious; like Pushan, swift in thought, and like all bestowing givers of wealth. You, Soma, are like Indra, performer of great deeds and slayer of obstacles, foremost among all, destroyer of serpentine foes, vanquisher of every enemy. Like Agni, released into the woods, Soma freely creates energies in the rivers. Like a warrior among people, purified Soma raises a mighty wave in battle. These Somas have crossed 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, rushes forth like the Maruts, unassailable as the heavens. Swift as waters, be our good fortune, you of a thousand streams, victorious in battles and sacrifices. Truly, the ordinances of King Varuṇa are yours; your abode, Soma, is vast and deep. Most pure, beloved as Mitra, skillful, and like Aryaman, you shine. The fire is set in motion along its paths; purified Soma flows like rain from the sky. 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, mounted the swiftest boat of truth. In the waters, the drop has grown, yoked with the eagle; the father milks it, and his offspring do likewise. They praise the lion, strong and tawny, 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 same inner chamber. With reverence, they purify him, surrounding him from all sides—the ancient ones. The prop of heaven, support of earth, all worlds are in his hand. The well has settled, praised by singers; the drop of sweetness flows—Soma for strength. Conquering like a new wind, Soma approaches the divine rite for Indra, the slayer of obstacles. Grant us the wealth of radiant glory; may we be lords of heroic strength. Urged on, the creator of heaven and earth advances like a chariot seeking the prize. He goes to Indra, armed with weapons, gathering all treasures in his hands. The songs resound to the strong, three-backed, youthful one. Clothed in the woods, like Varuṇa among rivers, he bestows precious gifts and riches. With a host of heroes, all-powerful and victorious, Soma purifies himself as the winner of wealth. With sharp weapons and swift bow, fierce in battle, he subdues enemies in contests. With wide pastures, making all things fearless, he flows together with the wise. Seeking waters and radiant dawns, resounding, he brings great prizes. Soma rejoices in Varuṇa, in Mitra, in Indra, and in Viṣṇu; he rejoices in the host of Maruts and in all the gods, rejoicing greatly for exhilaration. Like a wise king, Soma purifies himself, destroying all evils. For the hymn and the word, he grants us wings and always protects us with blessings. He flows forth, strong as a chariot in battle, with thought and intention, the foremost thinker. Ten sisters, upon the mountain summit, have given birth to the fire, each to their own dwelling. Indu, poured out with songs of the heavenly people, has flowed among the Nahushas with the wise. Immortal among men, he cleanses himself with cows and waters, shining with purity. The bull, roaring for the mighty, sharp and tawny, pours out the shining milk of the cow. With a thousand streams along the paths, the sun moves forth, distributing speech among us. Purifying Indu, break even the firm strongholds of the foe and sweep away the prizes. The bull above strikes with his weapon; those near or far, bring them to us. As in ancient times, for the new and all-encompassing, make the paths straight for the hymn. Those hard to conquer, mighty by nature, let us overcome them, O Soma, abundant in deeds and strength. Purifying, grant us heavenly waters, abundant offspring and descendants. Bless our field, wide light, Soma; bring us the sun to see, radiant for our vision. The tawny one, poured out, flows in the filter like a chariot released, striving for gain. Purified, he attains hymn and power; the gods accept him with their offerings. He has gone to the filter, bearing the name, the seer in the womb of the poet. Sitting like a priest in the house among the vessels, the seven wise sages approach. Soma, purified and wise, knower of the path, always comes to the hymn for all the gods. Delighting in all songs, the wise one stretches forth among the people, five in number. To you, Soma, purified, all the gods have come—three and eleven. Ten, with their own powers, on the mountain summit, and the seven mighty rivers cleanse you. Let this truth be of the purified Soma, where all poets unite. When light was made for the day, it created the world; Manu led the Karabhika for the Dasyu. Like a house, the sacrificer brings forth wealth; the true king comes to the assembly. Soma, purified, has entered the vessels; he sits like a deer or a buffalo in the forests. Together, the ten sisters—the thoughts of the wise—cleanse, flowing. The tawny one runs around the vessel of the sun, measuring it like a horse eager for the prize. Like a child with his mothers, he rejoices; the bull, abundant in gifts, flows with waters. Like a young man with a maiden, Soma goes forth to the vessel with the cows. Thus, the story of Soma unfolds, ever-purified, ever-glorious, bestowing strength, wealth, and blessings, praised by gods and men alike.