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1. EVEN as a
King hath Soma, red and tawny Bull, been pressed: the Wondrous One hath
bellowed to the kine.
While purified he passes
through the filtering fleece to seat him hawk-like on the place that drops with
oil.
2. To glory
goest thou, Sage with disposing skill, like a groomed steed thou rusbest
forward to the prize.
O Soma, be thou gracious,
driving off distress: thou goest, clothed in butter, to a robe of state.
3 Parjanya is
the Father of the Mighty Bird: on mountains, in earth's centre hath he made his
home.
The waters too have flowed, the
Sisters, to the kine: he meets the pressing-stones at the beloved rite.
4 Thou givest
pleasure as a wife delights her lord. Listen, O Child of Pajri, for to thee I
speak.
Amid the holy songs go on that
we may live: in time of trouble, Soma, watch thou free from blame.
5 As to the
men of old thou camest, Indu unharmed, to strengthen, winning hundreds,
thousands,
So now for new felicity flow
onward: the waters follow as thy law ordaineth.
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