THIS Sage, exalted by our lauds, flows to the purifying cloth, Scattering foes as he is cleansed.
As giving power and winning light, for Indra and for Vāyu he Is poured upon the filtering-cloth.
The men conduct him, Soma, Steer, Omniscient, and the Head of Heaven, Effused into the vats of wood.
Longing for kine, longing for gold hath Indu Pavamana lowed, Still Conqueror, never overcome.
This Pavamana, gladdening draught, drops on the filtering cloth, and then Mounts up with Sūrya to the sky.
To Indra in the firmament this mighty tawny Steer hath flowed, This Indu, being purified.
