The eager and mighty ones come forward, their bows drawn, manifesting heroic spirit. The radiant beings, youthful and full of vigor, advance for their lord, leading the way with strength and devotion. They purify the tawny, swift one—the brown-hued Soma—with water, preparing him for the journey. Alongside all the gods, Soma moves forth, exhilarated and ready. A mortal, pressing the Soma, utters sacred words, invoking the power to drive away the evil dog, just as the Bhṛgus did during their sacrifice. The beloved Soma, swift-flowing and bearing many names, is purified; he is mighty, the one upon whom the greatness of the sun rests. Ascending the broad chariot, Soma surveys all. Let the drops of Soma flow freely, unurged, for us. May the splendid ones—the swift horses—be exalted among the gods. Even those who do not partake, the desires and adversaries, let them become ours, fulfilling our thoughts. In the vessel, Soma resounds sweetly, shining like Indra’s thunderbolt, the most splendid of forms. The well-milked cows pour forth ghee, and the streams flow rich with milk. The Moon has gone forth, O Indra, to your abode; friendship remains undiminished, and the song continues. Like a young man among maidens, Soma strives in the vessel, his strength multiplied a hundredfold along the path. The supporter of heaven, the skillful juice, is purified—the wise Soma, praised by gods and men alike. The tawny one, released like a powerful horse, performs deeds in the rivers. The bull among thoughts, discerning Soma, is purified; he surpasses the days and awakens the dawns. He gives breath to heaven, to the rivers, to the vessels, and enters Indra’s heart with inspired energy. For him, three times seven cows yield their milk, the true and immortal one in the highest heaven. Soma sets apart four other worlds and makes them beautiful. O Soma, well-pressed for Indra, flow forth; may you remove affliction and grant protection. Let not your essence delight the two-faced, but let your generous drops be present here. Soma, the tawny bull, is pressed out for the two bay steeds; like a mighty king, he bellows over the cows. Purified, he seeks the unaging path, settling like an eagle in the butter-rich womb. Honeyed drops flow forth to the god, like cows to their calf, like milch cows to the altar. Those who dwell on the sacred grass, full of speech, reach the uncovered one with their streams. They adorn, brighten, and join together; they stir the will and unite with the generous. At the river’s outflow, the golden-hoofed seize the swift one leaping—the beast in the waters. The filter is spread out, O Lord of Prayer; you, the mighty, encompass all bodies everywhere. Like one whose body is unheated, no harm touches him. Those who have strained and borne reach that state together. To Indra, let the strong steeds go, carrying the pressed Soma drops, born for hearing and knowing the light. Awake, O Soma, flow forth for Indra; bring radiant strength and the light-bringer. Friends, sit for the purified one, sing forth, and surround the child with sacrifices for adornment. Sing to him, purified for your exhilaration, delighting the child with offerings and praises. The child, breathing for the great ones, impels the light of truth. He encompasses all beloved things, holding them in duality. Purify yourself, O Soma, with streams and strength for the divine assembly; come to the vessel, honeyed Soma, to our seat. Soma, purified, rushes with his wave, breaking through barriers; at the forefront of speech, the roaring one bellows. For the skillful, purified Soma, words are spoken; he delights in the offerings, accepting them with thoughtful appreciation, like a wage. O Soma, pressed, bring us wealth—cattle, horses, skill, riches—and place the pure color among the cows. For us, the singers have invoked you, the giver of wealth; with cows, we will clothe you in color. The golden one, beloved of the bays, is purified; he delights in lovely things. Come to the singers and bring heroic fame. The purified Soma flows around the vessel, pouring forth honeyed sweetness; the songs of the seers, seven in number, resound around it. Flow forth, Soma, most sweet and wise, for Indra; let the mightiest and most glorious exhilaration be yours. Shine forth, O lord of nourishment, with great glory and fame, O god who delights the gods. Direct the middle vessel, youthful one, towards us. Pour out, O pressers, the praise like a swift horse, abundant and far-reaching, surging through the vast expanse like a river released from the forest. This is indeed the exhilarating, thousand-streamed bull, milked from heaven and bearing all treasures. He is pressed who brings wealth, riches, offerings—Soma who brings good dwellings. O Pavamana, you proclaim the divine births, most radiant, announcing immortality. Pressed by the stream, pure through the filters, Soma flows most exhilarating, playing like the wave of waters. With strength, he has cut through the cows, even among the stones, and entered the enclosure for cattle and horses; like a warrior with armor, he breaks through with boldness. Thus, the pure Soma, gentle and forest-born, O Indra, bring to us the greatest and most powerful fame, as you, strong-armed and fair-bearded, uphold both worlds. Indra is king of all peoples, ruling over them; whatever of his all-formed he gives to the worshipper, he grants riches—even to one who praises from nearby. By whose might, yoked with the spaces among men, the great delight of Indra is found. Raise up, O Varuna, from us the highest snare; release the lowest and the middle. Then, O Aditya, by your law, may we, sinless, belong to Aditi. With you, O purified Soma, may we win in battle, ever victorious. May Mitra, Varuna, Aditi, the river, the earth, and the sky not harm us.