The child born of the great ones, radiant with the brightness of truth, became beloved by all. He embraced all that is dear, standing alone, without a second. When he entered the hidden chamber within Trita’s stone, journeying through the seven sacred abodes of sacrifice, he found what is most beloved. Supported by three pillars, empowered by Trita, he measured out wealth, wisely charting his courses. Seven mothers, creators themselves, adorned the newborn with glory; steadfast amidst riches, he perceived what must be known. Within his ordinance, all the gods gathered, united and free from deceit; pleasures, once merely desirable, became truly delightful as they welcomed him. Twin sisters, growing in truth, brought forth a lovely child—one gifted with vision, a poet mighty at sacrifice, much desired by all. In harmony with their nature, the swift mothers of truth shaped the sacrifice and adorned him, the human-born. With insight and shining eyes, he opened the gates of heaven, urging on the brightness of truth as he advanced through the sacrifice. Raise your voices for the purified Soma, the wise one, as for a sustainer who delights in offerings of thought. Shining with cows, Soma flows through inexhaustible coverings; the tawny one, as he is purified, establishes three abodes. He circles the vessel filled with sweetness, passing through the unexhausted filter, while the seven songs of the seers resound for him. Soma, leader of thoughts, purified and all-god, unassailable and bright, moves around the mixing bowl. Following the divine ordinances, all gather with Indra at the chariot; the purified, immortal one is praised by singers. Like a victorious charioteer, the god, pressed for the gods, far-seeing and purified, rushes forth. Friends, sit and sing for the purified one; adorn him for glory as you would a child with sacrifices. Release the god-inspired exhilaration, life-sustaining, like a calf with its mothers, for the twice-born. Purify that which brings skill, for the troop’s enjoyment, as for Mitra and Varuna, the most auspicious. For us, the singers have invoked you, the knower of wealth; with cows, we clothe you in color. O drop, lord of delights, divine Apsaras, be the best guide for our path, as a friend to a friend. Make us a solid wheel, ward off from us any godless, rootless one; drive away the double harm, O god. Once more, friends sing to the purified one for exhilaration, gladdening the child with praises at the sacrifices. Like a calf with its mothers, the drop, being pressed, is led forth—god-inspired exhilaration, adorned with thoughts. This one brings skill; this one is for the troop’s enjoyment; this pressed one is the sweetest for the gods. O drop, pressed with cows and horses, skillful and wealth-giving, we place your pure color among the cows. You, O drop, are lord of the tawny ones, the most divine Apsaras; radiant in friendship, be as a friend to us. You are the solid wheel for us; ward off any godless, rootless one; repel the double harm, O drop. The pressed drops, swift as steeds, go forth to Indra; newly-born and eager, they know the light. Soma, pressed for offering, flows for Indra, seeking victory as he knows how. In his exhilarations, may Indra seize the grasped, pressed Soma and take up his mighty, conquering thunderbolt. Awakened Soma, flow forth for Indra, O drop; bring radiant strength and the power to find the light. Flow forth, O mighty exhilaration, for Indra the all-seeing; thousand-fold in strength, path-maker and wise. Come to us, most knowing of the paths, sweetest for the gods; roar along a thousand ways. Flow, O drop, with streams and strength for the gods’ favor; enter the vessel, O sweet Soma, our seat. Your shining drops, O Soma, have strengthened Indra for exhilaration; you, whom the gods drank for immortality. Let the pressed, purified drops run to us with wealth; let the rain-filled heavens and flowing, light-finding waters come. Purifying Soma rushes in waves, spreading wide; at the forefront of speech, the roaring, flowing one. With thoughts, they urge on the prize-bringer, playing in the wood, never failing; hymns resound around the triple seat. He pours into the vessels like a charioteer eager for the prize; purifying, he generates speech and shines forth. The golden one flows, delighting in the bay steeds, surpassing lovely places; he approaches the singers with heroic fame. Flow with this, O godly one; streams of honey have flowed; roaring, you circle the filter from every side. Thus, Soma, the radiant child of the great ones, flows through sacrifice and song, adorned by mothers and creators, sought by gods and men alike. He brings skill, wealth, and delight, purifies and unites, and rushes forth, ever victorious, to strengthen Indra and to grant immortality and joy to all who praise him.