To Indra flow these running drops, these Somas frolicsome in mood. Exhilarating, finding light;
Driving off foes, bestowing room upon the presser, willingly Bringing their praiser vitalforce.
Lightly disporting them, the drops flow to one common reservoir, And fall into the river's wave.
These Pavamanas have obtained all blessings much to be desired, Like coursers harnessed to a car.
With view to us, O Soma-drops, bestow his manifold desire On him who yet hath given us naught.
Bring us our wish with this design, as a wright brings his new-wrought wheel: Flow pure and shining with the stream.
These drops have cried with resonant voice: like swift steeds they have run the course, And roused the good man's hymn to life.
