1The Sage hath robed him in the sheep's wool for the banquet of the Gods, Subduing all our enemies.

2For he, as Pavamana, sends thousandfold riches in the shape Of cattle to the worshippers.

3Thou graspest all things with thy mind, and purifiest thee with thoughts: As such, O Soma, find us fame!

4Pour on us lofty glory, send sure riches to our liberal lords: Bring food to those who sing thy praise!

5As thou art cleansed, O wondrous steed, O Soma, thou hast entered, like A pious king, into the songs,

6He, Soma, like a courser in the floods invincible, made bright With hands, is resting in the press.

7Disporting, like a liberal chief, thou goest. Soma to the sieve, Lending the laud heroic strength.