O Indra, O god, among all the gifts you have bestowed upon humankind, grant to us that wealth which the wise know and desire. Whatever treasures lie hidden—whether in secret lairs, firm places, or locked within the stones—bring us that coveted wealth, O Indra. You, Indra and Agni, are the priests of our sacrifice, ever victorious in contests and mighty deeds; be mindful of our prayers. Swift as thought, borne upon chariots, slayers of Vṛtra, undefeated in battle—Indra and Agni, remember us and our offerings. For you, men press the exhilarating draught with stones, pouring it forth in your honor—be aware of this, O Indra and Agni. O Soma, flow most sweetly for Indra and for the Maruts; settle in the very heart of our chants. You, mighty one, whom the wise and eloquent purify, whom the pressing stones together cleanse—may Mitra, Aryaman, and Varuṇa drink your essence, and may the Maruts partake of your flowing bounty. O Pavamāna, as you are purified with skilled hands, you seek out the sacred speech in the cosmic ocean, rushing toward abundant, variegated, much-desired wealth. Purifying, O bull Soma, you roar in the lovely, unaging wood; adorned with cows, you flow forth to the seat of the gods. They cleanse this tenfold one, the offspring of the river, casting it forth and proclaiming it with the rays of the sun. With Indra and Vāyu, the pressed Soma proceeds through the filter, united with the sun’s brilliance. Flow, O Soma, for our blessing, for Vāyu, for Pūṣan, sweet and lovely, for Mitra and Varuṇa as well. May our gatherings with Indra be rich in wealth, abundant, and nourishing, so that we may rejoice. Come here, O mighty one, by your own power, as the swift wheel of a chariot rolls for the singers. Whenever you, O hundred-powered one, fulfill the desire of the singers, you move with the swiftness and force of a chariot’s wheel. For the sake of granting good form, we offer you, O radiant one who shines in the heavens, as one milks a cow that gives sweet milk. Come to our libations, O drinker of Soma, and drink the Soma; the joy of the generous lies in the giving of cows. May we come to know the full limit of your good graces; do not pass us by, but come near. When you, Indra, fill both heaven and earth like the radiant dawns, you are the great king of the mighty, lord of peoples, born of the divine, blessed mother. Just as you bear the long goad, guiding with your wisdom, with your first step, O generous one, we would follow, as Yama did; for you are born of the divine, blessed mother. Remove from us the malice of mortals, cast down those who attack us, make their position low and firm beneath us—you, born of the divine, blessed mother. The resounding Soma, pressed upon the mountain, flows through the filter, pervading all in its exhilaration. You are the inspired one, the sage, sweet-born from the pressing, all-pervading in your joy. All the gods together have drunk your draught, O Soma, and you fill all with your exhilaration. Pressed is he who brings wealth, leads to riches, receives offerings—Soma, lord of good homes. Indra drinks your Soma, as do the Maruts and Bhaga, bestower of boons; by you, may we act with Mitra and Varuṇa, gaining great help from Indra. Sing forth for your friend, for exhilaration, the purified one; delight him with offerings as a child is delighted with praise. Like a calf pressed forth to its mothers, the exhilarating draught, adorned by thoughts, is made ready for the gods. This pressed Soma is prepared for skill, for strength, for delight—rich in sweetness, offered to the gods. The Soma juices, the drops, are purified for us, bestowers of the path—friendly, well-pressed, flawless, self-sustaining, knowers of the light. Those purified, wise Somas, bearing the head, are like heroes—splendid to behold, victorious, steadfast in ghee. Well-pressed by the stones, they flow, marked out upon the cow’s shining hide; may they bring us nourishment from all sides, finders of wealth. By this purification, flow on, O Soma, into these riches; enter the lake, O drop, and run forth in the stream, unhindered by the wind, established by the wise and thoughtful. By this purification, flow on, O Soma, to the renowned place of fame; shake out for us sixty thousand treasures, like a ripe tree, for the contest. Great is your bull-like name in the pressing, whether in the flesh, in the filter, or in the vessel; the hidden one lulls to sleep, moistens, drives away the unfriendly, and removes the senseless. Agni, you are our nearest, our protector; may you be auspicious and a sheltering refuge. You are the treasure, famed for wealth; come hither, most radiant one, and grant us abundant riches. To you, O most brilliant, shining one, we now seek favor for ourselves and our friends. May Indra and all the gods now sit here with us in these worlds.