The sacred Soma, the divine drop, begins its journey toward Indra’s dwelling, never abandoning its companions, rushing forth with delight—like a youth among maidens—along a hundredfold path into the vessel. Its enchanting, skillful thoughts advance in gatherings, seeking the tawny one at play, as hymns surround him and the cows settle around the milk, drawn to his nourishing essence. O Soma, come to us, flowing with vitality; Indu, pour yourself forth in waves, purified. May that which is drawn for us three times daily bring fertile land, wealth, honeyed strength, and heroic power. Every act performed in your honor is fruitful, never wasted or lost, echoing Indra’s mighty, unassailable strength through all-encompassing sacrifices. Soma stands firm and fierce, victorious in battles, unleashing great powers. At his birth, the cows gather, and heaven and earth unite without obstruction. Friends gather for purification, singing forth, surrounding Soma like a child adorned by sacrifices, seeking glory. Release him, as a calf to its mothers, for the attainment of life; let him be praised among the twice-born in divine intoxication. Purify that which accomplishes skill, for prosperity and for peace, as for Mitra and Varuna. The mighty, thousand-streamed Soma flows forth through the filter, ever fresh and pure. Cleansed with waters and adorned with cows, Soma shines forth, thousand-seeded. O Soma, go forth to Indra’s belly, pressed by men with stones, prepared for drinking. Somas pressed in distant lands, here, and in the land of the chariots; those prepared in the Arjika rituals, in homes, and among the five peoples—all these divine Somas may pour rain from the sky for us, bringing heroic strength. To you, O calf, the mind ascends from the highest abode; Agni, I desire you with my song. You are harmonious in many places, master of all directions; in battles, we call upon you for help and victory, for splendid gifts in contests. Indra, bring us strength and heroism; mighty, wise, victorious, grant us a warrior who conquers in war. You are our father, O lord; you are our mother, O mighty one. Therefore, we seek your favor. To you, O powerful, much-invoked, victorious one, I speak—grant us heroic strength. O Indra, whatever splendid gift is not here, let that which you give, O crusher, be bestowed upon us; grant us both kinds of wealth. O Indra, whatever you consider worthy and heavenly, bring that to us; let us know your blazing, unfailing gift. Your mind, O crusher, is renowned and vast, striving in all directions; with it, you firmly attain the prize for victory. The Maruts, with their troop, cleanse and adorn the youthful, tawny-born Soma. The sage, with songs and poetry, surpasses the filter, resounding. He whose mind is that of a seer, acts as a seer, shining in heaven, thousand-guided, follows the poets’ paths; the mighty Soma seeks to shine, reigning in splendor in the third abode. The falcon, the bird, the carrier—Govinda, Drapsa—bearing weapons, with the wave of waters, approaches the ocean; the mighty one distinguishes the fourth abode. These Somas pour forth, fulfilling Indra’s dear desire and manifesting his heroic power. Purifying, the Somas go forth, accompanied by the Ashvins and Vayu, granting noble strength. O Soma, purifying for Indra’s favor, stir the heart; settle in the seat of the gods. The seven inspired ones cleanse you, pour you forth, O Soma; the sages follow you in the rites. For the gods, for exhilaration, we send you forth, O Soma; with cows, we clothe you. Purifying in the vessels, the tawny, radiant Soma spreads out garments, enveloping himself with those of cows. O generous one, flow for us; drive away all enemies; O Indu, unite us with friendship. We, with human vision, shall partake of you, O Soma, drunk by Indra, knower of light, as nourishment for our offspring. Pour forth rain from the sky, strength upon the earth; grant us, O Soma, might in battles. Soma, purifying, flows with a thousand streams, exceedingly powerful, the portion of Vayu and Indra. Sing forth to the purifying, inspired Soma, the sage, for the divine feast, joyfully. The Somas, purifying for the prize, with a thousand powers, are praised for the divine feast by those who sing. O Soma, flow for us with great riches, abundant nourishment, and shining strength. Swiftly moving, like racing horses, you are not held back by restrainers; you surge forth for the gaining of wealth, your waves unimpeded and full of energy.