Let the golden chariot, drawn by tawny horses with peacock-like tails and dappled backs, carry the divine to the place of the sweet, pressed Soma—this sacred juice prepared for the gods’ delight. O lover of song, come and drink first of this well-prepared, flowing draught, for it is poured out especially for your joy. The priests pour out hymns as swiftly and powerfully as a racing horse, surging forward, breaking through the woods, traversing the wide spaces. The thousand-streamed bull, the great milk-giver, beloved for the birth of the gods, who grew and was born of truth, stands as king, god, and the embodiment of the great truth. Agni, the shining one, has struck down all obstacles. He is the bringer of wealth, resplendent and bright, skillfully invoked by the wise. In the womb of mother and father, the father sits, flashing in the imperishable, dwelling in the very source of truth. O Jātavedas, as you shine in the heavens, bring forth prayers rich in offspring; O wise Agni, bestow your blessings. The swift, golden, purified Soma, pressed with the gods, circles the filter, resounding like cattle in the house, guided by the Hotṛ priest. Clad in auspicious garments, the great sage is praised with words, purified in the vessel, wise and ever watchful in his service to the gods. Beloved and cleansed on the mountain slope, the most glorious among the glorious is established among us; purified, let him resound across the earth, always protecting us with his blessings. Now, let us praise Indra, pure and strong, with pure songs and hymns, that he may accept our pure offerings. Indra, pure one, come to us with pure aids, bestow pure wealth, and delight in the pure Soma. Grant us wealth, O pure Indra, give treasures to your worshippers, strike down obstacles, and help us win the prize. Agni, today we seek your favor with swift hymns that reach the sky, longing for the god’s wealth. May Agni, priest among men, accept our songs and honor the divine assembly. O Agni, you are renowned and chosen as the worthy priest; through you, the sacrifice spreads. The voices have praised the mighty, threefold, youthful one, shining, adorned with forests, like Varuṇa among rivers, who grants treasures and desirable gifts. O powerful leader, heroic and victorious, flow forth and bring us wealth; sharp-armed and swift-bowed, conquer enemies in battle, mighty among warriors. With wide protection, creating fearlessness, flow forth together, O Purandhi, seeking waters; let the dawns resound, grant us great prizes. Indra, lord of strength, you are renowned; you alone destroy formidable foes, uphold the people, and surpass all in ancient deeds. Now, O wise Asura, we seek you as our share of wealth, vast as a stretched skin; Indra, let your favor reach us for shelter. We have chosen you, O most worshipful god, as the immortal priest among the gods, wise in this sacrifice. To the radiant offspring of the waters, gracious Agni of excellent flame, may he grant us the favor of Mitra and Varuṇa, and the blessing of the heavenly waters. O Agni, those whom you protect among mortals in contests and in the pursuit of prizes attain lasting riches. No one can withstand or surpass his strength; even the least among us receives a prize worthy of fame. May this prize be won by all peoples with their horses, seized by sages, and be the bringer of wealth. Together, the ten sisters—thoughts of the wise—cleanse; the bowstrings sing as the tawny one circles the vessel of the sun, like a steed at the prize. Like a calf with its mothers, the mighty one, bearing many gifts, moves with the waters; like a youth among women, he goes forth, the vessel with the cows. The wise Soma flows forth, joining with streams, filling the udder; cows sprinkle the head with milk in the vessels, as treasures are poured out. O Indra, drink the pressed juice and delight in it, rich in cows; be our ally in the shared feast, may your thoughts support us. May we be favored by your generosity, O giver of prizes; let us not fall to the enemy; may your splendid aids protect us and guide us to your favor. Three times, seven cows have milked for him, true and strong, in the highest heaven; and he has separated four other worlds, making them beautiful. He, consuming the delightful nectar, has spread both heaven and earth with his poetry; the powerful waters have expanded in greatness, and by the fame of the god, the seat was made known. Let these be his signs—immortal and invincible in both his births—by which, with heroism and divine power, they purified and seized the king with their thoughts. I praise Vāyu with hymns; I purify Mitra and Varuṇa; I purify the wise, chariot-bearing man, and Indra, the mighty, with the thunderbolt in his hand. I purify the garments, well-clad; I purify the cows, rich in yield; I purify the splendid, golden, horse-drawn chariots for our lord, Soma, the god. I purify for us the divine treasures and all earthly things, so that we may attain wealth; I purify, O descendant of Jamadagni, for us. When you were born, O Maghavan, for the slaying of Vṛtra, then you expanded the earth and supported it, and also the heaven. Then your sacrifice was born, then the hymn and the bright praise; then you became lord over all that has arisen and all that is living. Cooked within them, bring forth; raise the sun in the sky, let the song shine like heat, adorned with beautiful praises—great for the singer.