HYMN XXXVII. Soma Pavamana.

1. SOMA, the Steer, effused for draught, flows to the purifying sieve,

Slaying the fiends, loving the Gods.

2 Far-sighted, tawny-coloured, he flows to the sieve, intelligent,

Bellowing, to his place of rest.

3 This vigorous Pavamana runs forth to the luminous realm of heaven,

Fiend-slayer, through the fleecy sieve.

4 This Payamana up above Trita's high ridge hath made the Sun,

Together with the Sisters, shine.

5 This Vrtra-slaying Steer, effused, Soma room-giver, ne'er deceived,

Hath gone, as 'twere, to win the spoil.

6 Urged onward by the sage, the God speeds forward to the casks of wood,

Indu to Indra willingly.