HYMN XXXVIII. Soma Pavamana.

1. THIS Steer, this Chariot, rushes through the woollen filter, as he goes

To war that wins a thousand spoils.

2 The Dames of Trita with the stones onward impel this Tawny One

Indu to Indra for his drink.

3 Ten active fingers carefully adorn him here; they make him bright

And beauteous for the gladdening draught.

4 He like a falcon settles down amid the families of men.

Speeding like lover to his love.

5 This young exhilarating juice looks downward from its place in heaven,

This Soma-drop that pierced the sieve.

6 Poured for the draught, this tawny juice

flows forth, intelligent, crying out,

Unto the well-beloved place.