With the sacred Soma pressed and offered, we turn our hearts and voices to Indra, the most generous among the generous, the great lord who holds the treasures of the world. May Indra become our ally in the pursuit of wealth, arriving to us with the gifts of Purandhi and the proud display of his banners. In every contest and every battle where a prize is sought, we call upon you, Indra, our friend, to come to our aid. I invoke the ancient dwelling, the mighty giver of abundant gifts, the one whom your own father called upon before you. If he hears our prayer, may he come to us, bringing a thousandfold aid and his banners, answering our invocation. Indra, purify your strength and the power that is worthy of hymns in the pressed Somas; recognize the great skill of the ancient wise one. He, the ancient one, is renowned in the first heaven, in the seat of the gods—most glorious, victorious in all contests. For the winning of wealth, I call upon that Indra, mighty in strength; be gracious to us, O friend, and grant us increase. With reverence, I call also upon Agni, born of strength, beloved, swift, righteous, immortal—the messenger for all. He is yoked with red steeds, ever ready, swiftly summoned by our offerings. The noble, well-ordered sacrifice brings the wealth of the gods to the people. Now the dawn has appeared, the daughter of heaven, shining forth. With her gaze, she chooses the great waters, dispels the darkness, and creates the light—she is the good and noble daughter. The sun, rising with the dawns, moves among the stars, shining brightly. At your coming, at the sun’s light, may we, too, go forth and share in our portion. These dawns in heaven call upon you, Ashvins; I also call for your help, bestowers of strength, for you journey from people to people. You, O divine ones, grant wondrous food, inspire those who speak well, and bring your chariot close with united mind to drink the honeyed Soma. The cows have drawn forth the ancient, shining milk for him—the rich milk of a thousand streams. Like the sun, he looks forth and runs through the rivers, ascending the seven channels to the sky. This Soma, purified, stands above all the worlds, O people, like a god—shining, not unlike the sun. This radiant one, pressed for the gods and of ancient birth, flows through the filter, tawny and bright. This god, with ancient thought, surpasses the other gods; the sage has grown strong with the inspired one. As you are poured around the filter, milking the ancient milk, your cry stirs the gods to birth. O purified one, instill fear in the hearts of our enemies and those who seek to harm us; grant us wealth, O Soma. The gods have sought this drop, born at dawn, swift-flowing, adorned with cows, and beautifully clarified. Sing to him, O people, to the purified Indu; the gods approach the purified one with reverence. The wise Somas, like mighty buffaloes, lead the waters with their waves, moving through the forests. The tawny, shining ones, by the stream of truth, overflow the vessels, pouring forth strength, rich in cattle. Let the pressed Somas flow for Indra, for Vāyu, for Varuṇa, for the Maruts, and for Viṣṇu. For the favor of the gods, Soma swells like a river in flood; with the milk of the portion, like one awakened, he approaches the honey-dripping vessel. The bright, shining one, beloved like a dear son, is adorned in the vessel; the streams set him in motion as rivers move a chariot between their arms. The Somas, pressed and full of exhilaration, enter the contest for our fame and for the generous ones. Just as a swan calls to its flock, they awaken the thought of all; like a horse, he is not restrained by the cows. The wives of Trita press the tawny one with stones, preparing the drop for Indra to drink. By this, O godly one, purify yourself; resounding, you circle the filter on every side, and streams of honey flow forth. The golden one, beloved, is purified and delights in shining places; flow forth to the singers, bringing heroic fame. The mortal who presses Soma desires the speech inspired by this draught; drive away the barking, envious one, just as the Bhṛgus destroyed the sacrifice’s foe. O Soma, foremost in speech, flow forth with splendid forms and encompass all acts of wisdom. You, most excellent in speech and stirring the oceanic waters, flow forth, O Soma, for all peoples. To you, wise Soma, these worlds have stood firm in your greatness, and the streams hasten to you. Flow, O Soma, strong and pressed, grant us renown among people, and drive away all hatreds. In your friendship, may we prevail over adversaries; by your highest glory, O Soma, may we be victorious. And those terrible, sharp weapons of yours, ready for battle—O Soma, protect us from every harm.