1High is thy juice's birth: though set it heaven, on earth it hath obtained dread sheltering power and great renown.

2In sweetest and most gladdening stream flow pure, O Soma, on thy way, pressed out for Indra, for his drink!

3Flow onward mighty with thy stream, inspiriting the Maruts' Lord, winning all riches with thy power!

4Flow onward with that juice of thine most excellent, that brings delight, slaying the wicked, dear to Gods!

5Three several words are uttered: kine are lowing, cows who give the milk; the tawny-hued goes bellowing on.

6For Indra girt by Maruts, flow, thou Indu, very rich in meath, to seat thee in the place of song!

7Strong, mountain-born, the stalk hath been pressed in the streams for rapturous joy. Hawk-like he settles in his home.

8Gold-hued! as one who giveth strength flow on for Gods to drink, a draught for Vayu and the Marut host!

9Soma, the dweller on the hills, effused, hath flowed into the sieve. All-bounteous art thou in carouse.

10The Sage of heaven whose heart is wise, when laid between both hands, with roars, gives us delightful powers of life.