O Soma, purify yourself with your rushing streams and mighty strength, for the sake of the divine assembly. Come, honeyed Soma, come to the vessel, to the place we have prepared for you. As you are purified, Soma, you surge forward in waves, breaking through every barrier; at the very forefront of speech, your roaring voice resounds. To you, the skillful and purified Soma, words of praise are spoken. You delight in the offerings, accepting them thoughtfully, as one receives a well-earned reward. O pressed Soma, bring us wealth—cattle, horses, skill, and riches. Place your pure radiance among the herds. For you, the bestower of riches, the singers have called out. With cows, we will adorn you in shining color. The golden one, beloved of the bay steeds, is purified and rejoices in all that is beautiful; come to the singers, Soma, and bring us heroic fame. As the purified Soma flows around the vessel, he pours out honeyed sweetness. The songs of the seers, seven in number, resound in his honor. Flow forth, Soma, most sweet and wise, for Indra; let the highest and most glorious exhilaration be yours. Shine forth, O lord of nourishment, with great glory and renown, O god who brings joy to the gods. Guide the middle vessel, youthful one, towards us. Pour out the praise, O pressers, swift and abundant, like a horse surging forward, like a river released from the forest, spreading far and wide. This is the exhilarating, thousand-streamed bull, drawn from heaven, bearing every treasure. He is pressed who brings wealth and riches and offerings—Soma, who grants good dwellings. O Pavamana, you proclaim the divine births, shining brightly, heralding immortality. Pressed by the stream and purified through the filters, Soma flows most exhilaratingly, playing like the waves of water. With strength, he has cut through the cows, even among the stones, and entered the enclosures for cattle and horses. Like a warrior in armor, he breaks through boldly. Thus, O Indra, bring us the pure, gentle, forest-born Soma, so that we may gain the greatest and most powerful fame, as you, strong-armed one, uphold both worlds, O fair-bearded god. Indra is king of all peoples, ruling over them; whatever he, in all his forms, bestows upon the worshipper, he grants riches, even to the one who praises from nearby. By his might, yoked with the spaces, among men, the great delight of Indra is found. O Varuna, lift 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 always win victory in battle; may Mitra, Varuna, Aditi, the river, the earth, and the sky never harm us. Make this one, O vigorous ones, the foremost among us. For Indra, for sacrifice, for Varuna, for the Maruts, flow forth, Soma, granting wide space. With this, O noble one, desiring all the glories of men, may we conquer. “I am the first-born of the cosmic order, earlier than the gods, the name of immortality,” declares Soma. “Whoever gives me attains thus—I am food, I eat the eater of food.” You, Soma, sustained this among the black cows, among the red, and among the speckled, with shining milk. The bull, difficult to restrain, foremost among the speckled ones, bellows and moves among the worlds, seeking the prize. The magicians measured him by their arts; the ancestors, with human sight, took up his essence. Indra, with his two yoked steeds, mingled with speech, wields the golden thunderbolt. Indra, protect us in contests and in those with a thousand prizes, O mighty one, with your powerful aid. The name of him who spreads and is spread, of the Anuṣṭubh offering, the carrier of gifts, Vasiṣṭha took up from the brilliance of the supporter, from Savitar and Viṣṇu, the Rathantara. Come with your teams, O Vāyu; I approach you, O bright one. You will come to the house of the one who presses the Soma. When you were born, O Maghavan, for the slaying of Vṛtra, then you expanded and supported the earth, and also the sky. May radiance, fame, and the essence of sacrifice be in me; may Prajāpati, the supreme, establish it in heaven as he does the sky. May your nourishing powers unite, may the prizes come together, may the strengths that overcome opposition join. Soma, enriched for immortality, place the highest fame in heaven. You, Soma, created all these plants, the waters, and the cows. From your body, you expanded the wide atmosphere; with your light, you drove away the darkness. I praise Agni, the priest, the god of sacrifice, the officiant, the bestower of treasures. They sought the first name of the cows, thrice seven, the highest name among peoples. Those who knew followed after; the reddish, famed cows appeared on earth. Some go together, others come together; the rivers join in the same expanse. The pure, shining ones approach the pure, shining, food-bearing waters. The auspicious young woman of the day arose from the east, her signs spread far. The auspicious resting place appeared—Night, the shelter of all that moves. Now let us praise the greatness of the bull, the red one. May our words reach Jātavedas in the assembly, to Vaiśvānara, the fresh-minded one—pure, like Soma when purified, beautiful to Agni. May all the gods hear my sacrifice—heaven, earth, and the son of the waters. May my words not be scattered among you; may I speak them in your favor, and may we rejoice at the end.