Now the dawn has arisen, the radiant daughter of heaven, shining forth in all her splendor. With her gentle gaze, she chooses the great waters, dispelling the darkness and creating the light—truly, she is the good daughter. With her arrival, the sun rises, moving together with the star, spreading brightness everywhere. At the coming of the sun’s light, may we set forth, sharing in the portion of the day. From the heavens, these dawns call upon you, Ashvins; I too invoke you, bestowers of strength, for you travel from people to people, bringing help. You, O divine ones, grant wondrous food and inspire eloquence. With one mind, you set your chariot near and drink the honeyed Soma. The ancient, shining milk has the cows drawn forth for him—the rich milk flowing in a thousand streams. Like the sun, he gazes out, rushing through the rivers, ascending the seven channels to the sky. This Soma, purified, stands above all the worlds, O people, like a god, radiant as the sun. This brilliant one, pressed for the gods and of ancient birth, flows through the filter—a tawny stream. This god, with ancient wisdom, surpasses the other gods; the sage grows strong with the inspired Soma. As the ancient milk is drawn and poured around the filter, with a mighty cry, you have stirred the gods to birth. O purified one, instill fear in our enemies for those who wish us harm, and grant us wealth, O Soma. The gods have sought the drop born at dawn—swift-flowing, adorned with cows, and beautifully clarified. Sing to him, O men, to the purified Indu; the gods approach the pure one with reverence. The wise Somas, like mighty buffaloes, lead the waters with their waves, flowing 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. Soma, to gain the favor of the gods, swells like a river in flood; with the portion of milk, awakened, he approaches the honey-dripping vessel. The bright, beloved one, like a dear son, is adorned in the vessel; the streams set him in motion as rivers do a chariot between their arms. The pressed Somas, full of exhilaration, have entered the contest for our fame and for the generous ones. 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, the drop for Indra to drink. By this, O godly one, purify yourself, resounding as you circle the filter on every side; streams of honey flow forth. The golden, beloved one is purified, delighting in the shining places; flow forth to the singers, bringing heroic fame. The mortal, pressing the Soma, desires the speech of this draught; drive away the barking, envious one, as the Bhṛgus destroyed the sacrifice. O Soma, foremost in speech, flow forth with splendid forms, encompassing all acts of wisdom. You, most excellent in speech, stirring the oceanic waters, flow forth, O Soma, for all peoples. To you, O 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 whose friendship we would prevail over adversaries—by your highest glory, O Soma, may we be victorious. Those terrible, sharp weapons of yours, ready for battle—protect us from every harm. You are mighty, Soma, radiant; a mighty god with a hero’s vow, upholding mighty laws. Your heroic power is great, your vigor is unyielding, your pressed juice is mighty; truly, you are the mightiest among the mighty. Like a strong chariot-horse, you rush together with the swift; O Soma, increase our wealth from afar. For you are radiant with light; we call upon you, shining one, O purified one, who beholds the sun. When you are sprinkled with waters, purified through lifespans, you reach the sacred seat in the vessel. Flow forth for heroic strength, delighting, with your own weapons; come here, O Soma, with the streams. As you rise through the filter, O Purifier, we choose your friendship. Those streams of yours, O Soma, which flow through the filter—grant us happiness through them. O Purifier, bring us wealth—food with heroes, O Soma, ruling over all. And for this sacrifice, we choose Agni as messenger, the priest who knows all, of wise counsel.