HYMN LXXXII. Soma Pavamana.

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.