XVIII Soma Pavamana

1. Thy streams that never fail or waste flow forth like showers of rain from heaven,

To bring a thousand stores of wealth.

2. He, flows beholding on his way all well-beloved sacred lore,

Green-tinted, brandishing his arms.

3. He, when the people deck him like a docile king of elephants,

Sits as a falcon in the wood.

4. So bring thou hitherward to us, Indu, while thou art purified.

All treasures both of heaven and earth!