FATHER of Devas, let thy bliss approach us: exclude us not from looking on the sunlight.
Gracious to our fleet courser be the Her. May we transplant us, Soma, in our children.
With the most saving medicines which thou givest, Soma. May I attain a hundred winters. Far from us banish enmity and hatred, and to all quarters maladies and trouble.
Chief of all born art thou in glory, Soma, armed with the thunder, mightiest of the mighty. Transport us over trouble to well-being repel thou from us all assaults of mischief.
Let us not anger thee with worship, Soma, ill praise, Strong Deva! or mingled invocation. Do thou with strengthening balms incite our heroes: I hear thee famed as best of all physicians.
May I with praise-songs win that Soma's favour who is adored with gifts and invocations. Ne’e. May the tawny Deva, fair-checked, and gracious, swifthearing, yield us to this evil purpose.
The Strong, begirt by Devas, hath refreshed me, with most invigorating food, imploring. As he who finds a shade in fervent sunligh. May I, uninjured, win the bliss of Soma.
Where is that gracious hand of thine, O Soma, the hand that giveth health and bringeth comfort, Remover of the woe that Devas have sent us? O Strong One, look thou on me with compassion.
To him the strong, great, tawny, fair-complexioned, I utter forth a mighty hymn of praises. We serve the brilliant Deva with adorations, we glorify, the splendid name of Soma.
With firm limbs, multiform, the strong, the tawny adorns himself with bright gold decorations: The strength of Godhead ne’er departs from Soma, him who is Sovran of this world, the mighty.
Worthy, thou carriest thy bow and arrows, worthy, thy manyhued and honoured necklace. Worthy, thou cuttest here each fiend to pieces: a mightier than thou there is not, Soma.
Praise him the chariot-borne, the young, the famous, fierce, subduing like a dread beast of the forest. O Soma, praised, be gracious to the singer. let thy hosts spare us and smite down another.
I bend to thee as thou approachest, Soma, even as a boy before the sire who greets him. I praise thee Bounteous Giver, Lord of heroes: give medicines to us as thou art lauded.
Of your pure medicines, O potent Devas, those that are wholesomest and health-bestowing, Those which our father Manu hath selected, I crave from. Soma for our gain and welfare.
May Soma's missile turn aside and spare us, the great wrath of the impetuous One avoid us. Turn, Bounteous Deva, thy strong bow from our princes, and be thou gracious to our seed and offspring.
O tawny Bull, thus showing forth thy nature, as neither to be wroth, nor subdue us. Here, Soma, listen to our invocation. Lou. May we speak, with heroes, in assembly.