O wise one, when you adorn the Vedas with the pressed drops of Soma, with moons and the sacred juice, you set forth the strong thread that binds the universe together. The ritual calls to the Adhvaryu: bring forth the Soma for us from the freshly pressed juice, for perhaps he will grant us what is praiseworthy and desired — the song of praise itself. Let us sing a hymn to the tawny, self-powerful, ruddy Soma, whose essence touches the sky. Purify the pressed Soma with stones released by the hand; let the sweet juice flow, let the honey run freely. Bow down, sit near, and listen attentively; place the drop, the moon, in Indra, the mighty. Flow, Soma, slayer of foes, wise among peoples; bring blessings to the cow, to the gods, fulfilling their desire. O Soma, you are poured out for Indra to drink, for exhilaration; even the mind, lord of mind, is poured out. O purified Soma, grant us heroic strength and wealth; unite us with Indra, O drop. The Sun rises with its rays, bringing fame and strength, driving away evil, coming as the remover of darkness. Indra, with the strength of his arms, broke ninety-nine fortresses and slew the serpent, the slayer of Vritra. May that gracious Indra, our friend, rich in horses, cattle, and food, milk for us like a cow with abundant streams. Let the shining one drink the great Soma, holding the sacrifice, bestower of life, delighting in the offering; driven by the wind, he protects by his own power, nourishes the people, and shines forth in many ways. This shining one, greatly upheld and bestower of strength, upholds the law, established in the seat of heaven; slayer of foes, destroyer of Vritra, most powerful against the Dasyus, light is born, slayer of demons and rivals. This is the highest, best light of all lights, called the conqueror of all, the winner of wealth, the great, all-shining Sun, whose brilliance spreads widely, firm in strength and power. O Indra, bring us wisdom, as a father to his sons; teach us, O much-invoked one, in this dwelling, so that we may attain living light. Let not unknown or hostile people, nor evil-doers, overcome us; with you, O hero, may we always cross over the flowing waters safely. Today, tomorrow, and every day, O Indra, protect us; O lord of the good, guard all our singers by day and by night. The generous hero, Maghavan, mighty in gifts, is ready for battle; both your strong arms, O hundred-powered one, have fitted the thunderbolt together for strength. We call upon Sarasvat, who grants abundant offspring and generous gifts, to bless us. May Sarasvatī, beloved among beloved sisters, well-pleased, become worthy of our praise. We contemplate the excellent radiance of Savitar, the divine; may he inspire our minds. O Brahmanaspati, make the sound of the Somas, the Kakṣīvān, resound, as the Auśija desires. Agni, you purify our lives; bring us radiant strength and nourishment, drive away misfortune from us. May you grant us the power of earthly greatness, the wealth of heaven, and the mighty dominion among the gods. By truth, they join with truth; they seek pure wisdom; the gods, free from harm, grow strong. The rain-giving heavens and earth, lords of abundance, seek the vast hollow of Dānumatī. They harness the bright, swift one, moving around; the shining realms of heaven glow. They harness his desired steeds, the red, fierce, heroic ones, yoked to the chariot, with strength and speed. Making a sign for the signless, you adorn the noble for the unadorned; you are born together with the dawns. This Soma, Indra, I press for you; it is purified for you. You must drink it, for you made it; you have strengthened the drop for joy, for union, for Soma. He, like a chariot, is abundantly yoked, bringing many treasures for the great; all the offspring of Nahusha, born from the sun, rise upward, seeking the forest. Strong, like a troop of Maruts, you purify, unharmed, as the divine; like waters, swiftly, may you be our good fortune, O thousand-streamed, victorious in battle, O sacrifice. You, Agni, are the priest of all sacrifices, established among gods and human beings. With your delightful tongues at the ritual, worship, O mighty one; lead and honor the gods. You, O wise Agni, know the paths and ways; you guide the gods directly in the sacrifices. The immortal divine priest goes forth in front, by his skill, urging the rituals onward. The swift horse is yoked among the steeds, the priest is led forth at the sacrifices, the sage is the means of the ritual. By wisdom, the most excellent fashioned the embryo of beings; he placed the father of skill in his offspring. At the pressing, pour out the wealth, the glory of heaven and earth; let the streams cherish the mighty bull. They know their own utterance, like calves with their mothers; they do not mix with others but remain with their kin. Thus flows the sacred story of the offering, the gods, and the cosmic order, where Soma, Indra, Agni, Sarasvatī, and Savitar are invoked, their blessings sought, and the light of wisdom and strength shines forth for all.