THOU, Soma, hast a running stream, joyous, most strong at sacrifice: Flow bounteously bestowing wealth.
Effused as cheerer of the men, flowing best gladdener, thou art A Prince to Indra with thy juice.
Poured forth by pressing-stones, do thou with loud roar send us in a stream Most excellent illustrious might.
Indu, urged forward, floweth through the fleecy cloth: the Tawny One With his loud roar hath brought as strength.
Indu, thou flowest through the fleece, bringing felicities and fame, And, Soma, spoil and wealth in kine.
Hither, O Indu, bring us wealth in steeds and cattle hundredfold: Bring wealth, O Soma, thousandfold.
In purifying, through the sieve the rapid drops of'Soma juice Come nigh to Indra in their course.
For Indra floweth excellent Indu, the noblest Soma juice The Living for the Living One.
The glittering maids send Sūra forth they with their song have sung aloud To Pavamana dropping meath.
May Pūṣan, drawn by goats, be our protector, and on all his paths Bestow on us our share of maids.
This Soma flows like gladdening oil for him who wears the braided locks: He shall give us our share of maids.
This Soma juice, O glowing God, flows like pure oil, effused for thee: He shall give us our share of maids.
Flow onward, Soma, in thy stream, begetter of the sages' speech: Wealth-giver among Gods art thou.
The Falcon dips within the jars: he wrapḥim in his robe and goes Loud roaring to the vats of wood.
Soma, thy juice hath been effused and poured into the pitcher: like A rapid hawk it rushes on.
For Indra flow most rich in sweets, O Soma, bringing him delight.
They were sent forth to feast the Gods, like chariots that display their strength.
Brilliant, best givers of delight, these juices have sent Vāyu forth.
Bruised by the press-stones and extolled, Soma, thou goest to the sieve, Giving the worshipper hero strength.
This juice bruised by the pressing-stones and lauded passes through the sieve, Slayer of demons, through the fleece.
O Pavamana, drive away the danger, whether near at hand Or far remote, that finds me here.
This day may Pavamana cleanse us with his purifying power, Most active purifying Priest.
O Agni, with the cleansing light diffused through all thy fiery glow, Purify thou this prayer of ours.
Cleanse us with thine own cleansing power, O Agni, that is bright with flame, And by libations poured to thee.
Savitar, God, by both of these, libation, purifying power, Purify me on every side.
Cleanse us, God Savitar, with Three, O Soma, with sublimest forms, Agni, with forms of power and might.
May the Gods’ company make me clean, and Vasus make rue pure by song. Purify me, ye General Gods; O Jātavedas, make me pure.
Fill thyself full of juice, flow forth, O Soma, thou with all thy stalks, The best oblation to the Gods.
We with our homage have approached the Friend who seeks our wondering praise, Young, strengthener of the solemn rite.
Lost is Alayya's axe. O Soma, God do thou send it back hither in thy flow Even, Soma, God, if ’twere a mole.
The man who reads the essence stored by saints, the Pavamani hymns, Tastes food completely purified, made sweet by Mātariśvan's touch.
Whoever reads the essence stored by saints, the Pavamani hymns, Sarasvatī draws forth for him water and butter, milk and meath.
