Soma, radiant and glorious, flows forth in all his splendor for the generous, bringing steadfast wealth and nourishment to the singers who praise him. Like a king of noble vows, Soma enters the hymns, purified and wondrous, blazing with a fiery brilliance. This fire, difficult to restrain even within the waters, is refined between the rays of light, and Soma takes his seat among the gathered hosts. Playful as a festive offering, Soma delights all; he moves toward the filter, bringing strength to the hymn and joy to those who celebrate him. Again and again, he flows with nourishing drops, bestowing all good fortunes upon those who call to him. As the pressed juice, Indu, he settles upon the sacred grass, taking his honored place in the ritual. Soma, with his pressed essence, flows for us, bestowing cows and horses, swift rewards that come with each passing day. He is the unconquered conqueror, the fearless striker of foes; so Soma flows, victorious and bestowing thousands of blessings. His streams, sweet as honey, are released for aid, reaching the filter to fulfill their purpose. He flows for Indra to drink, passing through the eternal waters, seated at the very source of truth. Around the Angirases he circles, most sweet, granting wide pastures and the milk that sustains life. His splendors flash like rain, shine with the brightness of Agni, and move with the courses of the dawns; impelled among plants and woods, he gathers the food for the sacred meal. Driven by the wind and desire, Soma stands among the herds, eager as a seeker of food. Charioteers strive for him, just as they do for Agni’s undying portions. As the maker of wisdom and arranger of the assembly, Agni is chosen as the priest and common friend, the mighty one who surrounds all thought and receives the child’s oblation—none but him is chosen. From Varuna and Mitra, abundant help is sought, and their goodwill is invoked. The prayer rises: may we attain your secure abode, O mighty ones, and be your friends, O Mitra. Guard us with your protections, defend us with strong aid, and may we overcome our enemies with our own strength. Indra, rising with strength and united in power, shakes his cheeks after drinking the pressed Soma amidst the hosts. Both worlds follow him when he becomes the slayer of the foe. The eight-footed speech, new-hued and born of truth, is sought from Indra for the growth and expansion of the body. Indra and Agni are called with hymns composed for them; they are invited to come and drink the pressed Soma, so delightful to both. Whatever eager bands belong to them, the mighty ones are asked to bring them to the worshipper. With these bands, the heroes are called to the Soma offering, to drink and be satisfied. Let the most radiant Soma flow, resounding as it fills the vessels, settling in the proper places. Let Soma flow for Indra, for Vāyu, for Varuṇa, the Maruts, and for Viṣṇu. Soma is prayed to for nourishment and offspring from every side, to flow forth bringing a thousandfold wealth. Pressed by priests and filtered, Soma moves onward like a swift horse, advancing with a delightful stream. In fertile meadows, rich in cows and guarded by milk-giving kine, he flows like rivers to the ocean, rejoicing in his own exhilaration. Whatever splendid, heavenly, or earthly wealth is to be praised, Soma, purified, is asked to bring that to his devotees. The mighty, purified one thunders as he brings life, settling upon the sacred grass; the tawny one sits in the common seat, sharing his presence. Indra and Soma, the lords of good things and guardians of cattle, are invoked to make the prayers fruitful as rulers. Indra, grown strong for exhilaration and might, is the slayer of Vṛtra, called upon in great battles for success in contests. As a heroic leader, he gives abundantly, generous even to the humble, granting wealth to the worshipper who presses Soma. When warriors are roused for battle and the prize is set, Indra is asked to harness his exhilaration-yielding steeds and to choose whom to strike and whom to enrich—may he enrich us. The cows drink the sweet, overflowing honey; those who rejoice with mighty Indra in strength shine forth, possessing wealth and following the sovereignty of the sun. The spotted cows press the Soma for Indra, preparing the thunderbolt and arrow, and, possessing wealth, they too follow the sun’s rule. The wise ones, with reverence, serve Indra’s might, performing his ancient rites for his pleasure, all under the sovereignty of the sun. That Soma, pressed for exhilaration and skilled in the waters, mountain-dwelling and eagle-like, settles in his proper place. The pure one, free from blemish, is driven by the gods’ wind, washed in the waters and pressed by men; the cows sweeten him with their milk. Like a horse at the yoke, Soma is adorned—the juice of sweetness for immortality—gathered and celebrated in the sacred assembly.