As the sacred rite unfolds, three voices rise in the dawn: the cows low gently, the milch-cows bellow their calls, and the tawny one—Soma—comes roaring forth. O Soma, you are invoked to flow for Indra and the Maruts, your sweetness settling deep within the womb of the sacred chant. This radiant drop, prepared with skill for exhilaration, settles among the waters like an eagle returning to its nest upon the mountain. Flow, O tawny one, accomplishing all skill, so the gods may drink; let your exhilarating essence delight the Maruts and Vāyu. Born upon the mountain, the resounding Soma pours through the filter, spreading exhilaration everywhere, all-pervading. The beloved sage of heaven, set among the offspring, moves with resonant sounds; wise and inspired, he goes forth with determined will. The pressed Somas, rich in exhilaration, advance for our renown, O generous one, before the assembly. Like mighty buffaloes, the wise Somas lead forth the waters in waves, breaking through the woods with their strength. O Soma, strong and well-pressed, flow on—make us renowned among people and drive away all hatreds. Truly, you are strong with brilliance; we call upon you, O purified one, radiant with light, who reveals the heavens. As the conscious drop enters the filter, dear to the poets, it sends forth thoughts as a charioteer guides his horse. The swift, cattle-winning, horse-winning, bright and strong Somas flow forth, eager for heroic deeds. O god Soma, flow for us and grant long life; may your exhilaration reach Indra, and ascend to Vāyu by the right path. Purified, you have generated the wondrous heavens like thunder, the great universal light. The resounding drops, radiant and sweet-voiced, stream forth with their flow, bringing exhilaration. The sage, having taken his place, sends forth the waves of the river; bearing the poet and desiring much, he holds fast. The gods have sought Soma, born at dawn, purified by the cows, filtered and adorned—the first portion of the sixth pressing. Purifying himself, the wise one advances beyond all hostilities; the inspired sage is glorified with hymns. The pressed Soma enters the vessel, flowing with all glories, and is offered to Indra with devotion. Like a charioteer, the Soma is set in motion in the filter of the pressing stones, advancing swiftly like a noble steed. As eager, powerful cows rush forth, so the swift streams surge, striking away the darkness. Soma, wise and exhilarating, you flow, driving away hostilities and repelling those not devoted to the gods. Flow forth with that stream by which you made the sun shine, setting the human waters in motion. Flow, you who aided Indra in slaying Vṛtra, you who released the mighty waters. With this stream, O Soma, flow around, delighting in the pressings and bringing the ninefold draughts. Flow around the radiant, wealth-bringing Bharadvāja with your juice, O resounding one, through the filter. The mighty, roaring, tawny one bellows—great and wondrous like Mitra, shining together with the sun. To you, bringer of joy, we choose the fire, the wisdom, and the protection, O guardian sought by many. O Adhvaryu, lead the pressed Soma with the stones through the filter; purify it for Indra to drink. The exhilarating stream of pressed Soma rushes forth, surging with delight, overflowing with joy. O Soma, flow for us a thousandfold wealth and heroic power; establish our fame with your stream. The ancient paths are traversed anew; with their radiance, they have produced the sun. Flow, Soma, most radiant, resounding through the vessels; settle in the two seats, in the wombs. You are mighty, O Soma, radiant; you are steadfast, upholder of the mighty laws. Flow forth, Soma, with your stream for strength, purified by the wise; O Indu, come with your shining rays, come to the cows. With a delightful stream, O Soma, flow forth as a bull, worthy of the gods—unassailable, ever youthful, clothed in coverings. By this good deed, O Soma, the pressing stone has made you, O bull, fit for the hero. This Pavamana, the wise one, set in motion, stirs himself; flowing, he seeks the great, primeval place. O Indu, flow for us toward greatness; you bear the wave, you do not fail, you swiftly approach the gods. Soma flows, driving away foes and repelling the hostile, journeying to Indra’s chosen place.