With deep reverence, we invoke the sacred power by which the gods themselves are ever purified—the thousand-streamed flow that passes through the divine filter. May the Pavamani hymns, those ancient songs of cleansing, purify us as they purify the gods. These hymns are bringers of welfare; by their grace, one attains delight, partakes of blessed foods, and reaches toward immortality. Drawn by devotion, we approach Agni, the youngest and most radiant, shining brilliantly in his own abode. He stands as a luminous presence between heaven and earth, summoned from every direction. Through his greatness, Agni—the summoner—removes all evils from the household. As the knower of all beings, may he shield us from harm and misfortune, bestowing his gifts as we praise him. Together with Varuna and Mitra, Agni is honored by the Vasisthas through their thoughtful prayers. May their treasures be ever delightful, and may these deities always protect us with their blessings. Indra, mighty as a cloud heavy with rain, grows in strength through our praises, like a calf nourished by its mother. When the Kanvas, with their hymns, made Indra the accomplisher of the sacrifice, they called upon him to wield his weapons for their protection. As the sacred fires, bearers of immortality, bring forth their offspring, the inspired ones uphold the cosmic order with their strength. The streams of the purifying one flow forth, radiant and striking, ever-renewed by the old flames. This purifying one, the best of charioteers, glows with golden brilliance, shining among the host of Maruts. O purifying one, spread your radiant rays, bestower of strength, and grant heroic power to our hymns of praise. Pour out the pressed Soma, the highest offering, for he who holds it—the noble one—has pressed it with stones in the waters. Now let the purified Soma flow freely with its fragrant streams. Even as it is pressed, it delights in the waters, tasting the nectar, adorned with cows and reaching the highest. Soma, resounding and far-seeing, wise and delightful to the gods, flows for divine vision. This Soma is lively, tawny, a vigorous bull. Drawn by his two bays, like a mighty king, he calls out to the cows. Purified, he seeks the unfailing shelter and soars like an eagle to the seat rich in ghee. Parjanya, father of the horned buffalo and navel of the earth, has established his dwelling in the mountains; his waters, like sisters, flow towards the cows, and he abides with the pressing stones at the sacred rite. O inspired Soma, you seek the greatness of the wise creator. Like a well-adorned steed, you race towards the prize. Driving away all that is harmful, grant us happiness; clothed in ghee, you circle the trough. All people gaze at Indra as they would at the sun. Born with strength, he has reached the sources of wealth, and we, too, have won our share. Praise the generous giver of riches, for Indra’s bounties are auspicious; he who cannot restrain his longing for Indra urges his heart to giving. Indra, from those who threaten us, make us safe. O bountiful one, drive away our fears, scatter our foes and adversaries for our protection. You, lord of riches, hold great wealth and prosperity. Generous Indra, singer of praises, we invoke you with pressed Soma. Soma, you are the supporter, most delightful and powerful at the sacrifice; flow forth, bringing joy and wealth. Well-pressed, you are exhilarating and inspiring, Soma—the victorious drop, always protected. Flow forth resounding, Soma, bringing radiant might. Flow, O Soma, for the enjoyment of the gods, with your streams and strength; come into the vessel, sweet Soma, our honored seat. Your shining drops, O Soma, swell for Indra’s exhilaration; the gods have drunk you for immortality. Come to us, purified Soma drops, and bring us wealth. Let the rain-filled heavens and flowing, light-giving waters approach. Around the tawny, desirable steed, the gods purify with the filter, and, together with all the gods, he moves forth in exhilaration. Twice five waves, self-glorious and friendly, pressed by the stone, pour out the beloved Soma, so dear to Indra. For Indra, for his drinking, O Soma, slayer of Vṛtra, you are poured out—for the man of right action, for the hero, for him who sits in the sacred seat. Flow, O Soma, for great skill, like a well-yoked horse, a prize-winner for wealth. The pressers purify you, Soma, for exhilaration and great glory. They cleanse the newborn, tawny child—Soma, the drop—for the gods in the purifier. O Dawn, the gods have approached the newly born, swift one, pressed and adorned with cows, the shining drop. May our songs, like cows seeking a calf, reach him who delights Indra’s heart. Flow for us, Soma, for blessing and for the cow; pour forth nourishing food and swell the ocean of praise. Those who kindle Agni and spread the sacred grass in order—Indra is their youthful friend. Great is their kindling, abundant their praise, and wide their glory, for Indra is their youthful friend. Unconquered in battle, chosen by warriors, heroic in strength—for such as these, Indra is a youthful friend. He alone bestows wealth on the mortal who serves: Indra, the lord, irresistible indeed.