FOR holy lore of every sort, flow onward thou whom all men love. A Friend to be besought by friends.
O'er all thou rulest with these Two which, Soma Pavamana, stand, Turned, as thy stations, hitherward.
Wise Soma Pavamana, thou encompassest on every side Thy stations as the seasons come.
Flow onward, generating food, for precious boons of every kind, A Friend for friends, to be our help.
Upon the lofty ridge of heaven thy bright rays with their essences, Soma, spread purifying power.
O Soma, these Seven Rivers flow, as being thine, to give command: The Streams of milk run forth to thee.
Flow onward, Soma in a stream, effused to gladden Indra's heart, Bringing imperishable fame.
Driving thee in Vivasvān's course, the Seven Sisters with their hymns Made melody round thee the Sage.
The virgins deck thee o’er fresh streams to drive thee to the sieve when thou, A singer, bathest in the wood.
The streams of Pavamana, thine, Sage, Mighty One, have pouredthem forth. Like coursers eager for renown.
They have been poured upon the fleece towards the meath-distilling vat: The holy songs have sounded forth.
Like milch-kine coming home, the drops of Soma juice have reached the lake, Have reached the place of sacrifice.
O Indu, to our great delight the running waters flow to us, When thou wilt robe thyself in milk.
In this thy friendship, and with thee to help us, fain to sacrifice, Indu, we crave thy friendly love.
Flow on, O Soma, for the great Viewer of men, for gain of Idne Enter thou into Indra's throat.
Best art thou, Soma, of the great, Strongest of strong ones, Indu: thou As Warrior ever hast prevailed.
Mightier even than the strong, more valiant even than the brave, More libpral than the bountiful,
Soma, as Sūra, bring us food, win offspring of our bodies: we Elect thee for our friendship, we elect thee for companionship.
Agni, thou pourest life; send down upon us food and vigorous strength; Drive thou misfortune far away,
Agni is Pavamana, Sage, Chief Priest of all the Races Five: To him whose wealth is great we pray.
Skilled in thy task, O Agni, pour splendour with hero strength on us, Granting me wealth that nourishes.
Beyond his enemies away to sweet praise Pavamana flows, Like Sūrya visible to all.
Adorned by living men, set forth for entertainment, rich in food, Far-sighted Indu is a Steed.
He, Pavamana, hath produced the lofty Law, the brilliant light, Destroying darkness black of hue.
From tawny Pavamana, the Destroyer, radiant streams have sprung, Quick streams from him whose gleams are swift.
Best rider of the chariot, praised with fairest praise mid beauteous ones, Gold-gleaming with the Marut host,
May Pavamana, best to win the booty, penetrate with rays, Giving the singer hero strength.
Over the fleecy sieve hath flowed the drop effused: to Indra comes Indu while he is purified
This Soma, through the pressing-stones, is sporting on the oxhide, and Summoning Indra to the draught.
O Pavamana, bless us, so that we may live, with that bright milk Of thine which hath been brought from heaven.
