The Somas began their journey, flowing forth in purity like the radiant Indus, gleaming as they found their place among the waters. The cows, too, streamed onward, descending like waters in a lively current, their essence purified as they reached Indra himself. O purifying Soma, you flow forth, bringing delight to Indra; guided by human hands, you are carried away to your sacred destination. When pressed by the stones, O Indu, you are poured carefully around the filter, becoming fit for Indra’s own abode. Soma, you bring joy to humankind as you flow, upholding the tribes and remaining ever fresh, ever worthy of praise. Flow on, O slayer of Vṛtra, most praiseworthy in hymns: pure, radiant, and wondrous to behold. You are called pure and radiant, Soma; when pressed, you are sweet, divine, heroic, and the destroyer of reproach. The sage protects you, Soma, for the gods, with unfailing streams, summoning all contests and challenges. For you, O purifying one, bring to the singers wealth rich in cows—a thousandfold abundance. You are cleansed with all intelligence, purified by thought itself; grant us fame, O Soma. Flow forth with great glory for the generous, bringing steadfast wealth and nourishment to the singers. Like a king of good vows, Soma, you have entered our songs—purified, wondrous fire. This fire, difficult to restrain in the waters, is purified between the rays, and Soma sits among the hosts. Playful as a festive offering, you delight, Soma, as you go to the filter, placing strength in the hymn. Flow for us, Soma, with nourishing drops, again and again, and bring all good fortunes. O Indu, as your praise and your pressed juice, settle down upon the dear seat of the sacred grass. Soma, flow for us with your pressed juice, bestowing cows and horses in these swift-moving days. You conquer and are never conquered; you strike down the foe without fear—so, Soma, flow as the winner of thousands. Your streams, O Indu, flowing with honey, I have let flow for aid; with them, you reach the filter. You flow for Indra to drink, passing through the unspent waters, sitting at the very source of truth. Soma, you flow around, most sweet for the Angirases, granting wide space and drawn milk. Your splendors flash like rain, like the brightness of Agni, like the courses of the dawns—when you, moving among plants and woods, gather food for the meal yourself. Driven by the wind, impelled by desire, you stand among the herds, eager as a seeker of food; then the charioteers strive for you, as for the portions of Agni, the undying one who burns. As the maker of wisdom, arranger of the assembly, Agni the priest surrounds the thought—chosen as the common friend of the child’s oblation, O mighty one; none other is chosen but you. Indeed, from you comes abundant help; now, O Varuna and Mitra, I seek your goodwill. May we reach your secure abode, O mighty ones, and may we be your friends, O Mitra. Guard us, O Mitra, with your protections, and may you both defend us with strong aid; may we overcome our enemies with our own bodies. Rising with strength, united in power, after drinking you shook your cheeks, O Indra, for the pressed Soma among the hosts. Both worlds followed you, O Indra, when you became the slayer of the foe. I seek the eight-footed speech, newly colored, grown in truth, from Indra, for the expansion of my being. O Indra and Agni, these hymns are composed for you; come and drink the pressed Soma, delightful to you both. Whatever eager bands are yours, O mighty ones, come with them to the worshipper. With those bands, O heroes, come to this Soma offering, O Indra and Agni, for the drinking of Soma. Let the most radiant Soma flow, resounding as it enters the vessels, settling in the proper places. Let the Somas flow for Indra, for Vāyu, for Varuṇa, for the Maruts, and for Viṣṇu. O Soma, grant us nourishment and offspring from every side; flow forth, bringing a thousandfold wealth. Pressed by the priests and filtered, Soma moves onward like a swift horse, advancing with a delightful stream. In the fertile meadows, Soma, rich in cows and guarded by milk-giving kine, flows like rivers to the ocean, delighting in exhilaration. Whatever splendid, heavenly, or earthly wealth is to be praised, O Soma, purified one, bring it to us. The mighty, purified Soma, thundering, brings life as he settles on the sacred grass; the tawny one sits in the common seat, blessing all with his presence.