O purifying Soma, radiant and powerful, you spread your invigorating rays, bestowing strength and heroic energy upon the hymns sung in your praise. Around you, the pressed Soma—the highest offering—pours forth; the noble one has pressed you with stones in the sacred waters, preparing you for the gods. Now, let the purified Soma flow freely, unbound and fragrant, delighting even in the pressing, tasting the waters, adorned with cows, and elevated as the highest. You, resounding and wise, far-seeing Soma, the delight of the gods, flow for vision and insight. Lively and tawny, you are a vigorous bull, Soma, drawn by your two bays like a mighty king. You loudly call out to the cows, purified and seeking unfailing shelter; like an eagle, you reach the seat rich in ghee. Parjanya, father of the horned buffalo and navel of the earth, has established his dwelling in the mountains. His sisters, the waters, have flowed toward the cows, and he abides with the pressing stones at the sacred rite. Inspired one, you seek the greatness of the wise creator, rushing toward the prize like a well-adorned steed. Soma, driving away all that is harmful, grant us happiness; clothed in ghee, you pass around the trough, blessing all. All the people gaze at Indra as they do at the sun; born in strength, he has attained the sources of wealth, and we have won our share through him. Praise the generous giver of wealth! Indra’s bounties are auspicious, and those who desire him, urging their minds to giving, are blessed. Indra, from whom we fear, make us safe; O bountiful one, drive away harm for our aid, scatter our foes and adversaries. You, Indra, lord of riches, holder of great wealth and prosperity, generous singer of praises, we invoke with pressed Soma. And you, Soma, supporter and most delightful at the sacrifice, flow forth, bringing joy and wealth. Pressed and exhilarating, you inspire all, victorious in contests and protected. Well-pressed with stones, you flow forth resounding, bringing radiant might. Flow, O Soma, for the gods’ enjoyment, with your streams and strength; come into the vessel, sweet Soma, our seat. Your shining drops, Soma, have swelled for Indra’s exhilaration; the gods have drunk you for immortality. Come to us, purified Soma drops, bring us wealth. Let the rain-filled heavens and flowing waters, givers of light, approach. Around the tawny, desirable steed, they purify you with the filter; with all the gods, you go forth together in exhilaration. Twice five waves, self-glorious friends, pressed by the stone, pour out the beloved Soma, desirable for Indra. For Indra, for drinking, O Soma, slayer of Vṛtra, you are poured out—for the hero, for the one who sits in the seat. Flow, O Soma, for great skill, like a yoked horse, a prize-winner for wealth. The pressers purify you, Soma, for exhilaration and great glory. They cleanse the newborn child, the tawny one, in the purifier—Soma, the drop, for the gods. O Dawn, the gods have approached the newly born, the swift one, pressed with cows and adorned, the drop. May our songs, like cows to a calf, reach him who delights the heart of Indra. 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, for whom Indra is a youthful friend, are blessed. Great is their kindling, abundant their praise, wide their glory, for whom Indra is a youthful friend. Unconquered in battle, chosen by warriors, heroic with strength, for whom Indra is a youthful friend. Indra alone bestows wealth on the mortal who serves him, the lord, irresistible indeed. Whoever invokes you, Indra, with many offerings, to him your fierce might truly belongs. When will Indra strike down the lawless mortal, as one crushes a clod with the foot? When will he listen to our songs? The singers sing to you, the chanters praise you with hymns; the priests, O hundred-powered one, have yoked you like a horse to the post. When you ascend from peak to peak, performing wondrous deeds, Indra perceives the aim, the bull moves with his troop. Yoke your tawny, mighty steeds, O Indra, who bear you swiftly; then, O Soma-drinker, come to us and attend to the sound of our songs. Well-kindled, bring here the gods, O Agni, for the one offering; O pure Hotar, accept the oblation. Make for us today, O wise one, a sacrifice rich in sweetness for our bodies among the gods, for the invocation. Here I call Narāśaṃsa, dear at this sacrifice, with honeyed tongue, for the prepared oblation. O Agni, in the most pleasant chariot, bring the praised gods here; you are the Hotar established by Manu. When today, at sunrise, Mitra, Aryaman, Savitar, and Bhaga, sinless ones, bestow their favor, may our offerings be accepted and our blessings multiplied.