THE guerdon is bestowed: the Mighty takes his Seat, and, ever-Watchful, guards from fiend and evil sprite. Gold-hued, he makes the cloud his diadem, the milk his carpet in both worlds, and prayer his robe of state.
Strong, bellowing, he goes, like one who slays the folk; he lets this hue of Asuras flow off from him, Throws off his covering, seeks his father's meeting-place, and thus makes for himself the bright robe he assumes.
Onward he flows, from both the hands, pressed out with stones: excited by the prayer, the water makes him wild. He frolics and draws near, completes his work with song, and bathes in streams to satisfy the worshipper.
They pour out meath around the Master of the house, Celestial Strengthener of the mountain that gives might; In whom, through his great powers, oblation-eating cows in their uplifted udder mix their choicest milk.
They, the ten sisters, on the lap of Aditi, have sent him forward like a car from both the arms. He wanders and comes near the Cow's mysterious place, even the place which his inventions have produced.
Like as a falcon to his home, so speeds the God to his own golden wisely-tashioned place to rest. With song they urge the darling to the sacred grass: the Holy One goes like a courser to the Gods.
From far away, from heaven, the redhued noted Sage, Steer of the triple height, hath sung unto the kine. With thousand guidings he, leading this way and that, shines, as a singer, splendidly through many a morn.
His covering assumes a radiant hue; where’er he comes into the fight he drives the foe afar. The Winner of the Floods, with food he seeks the host of heaven, he comes to praises glorified with milk.
Like a bull roaming round the herds he bellows: he hath assumed the brilliancy of Sūrya. Down to the earth hath looked the heavenly Falcon: Soma with wisdom views all living creatures.
