POUR on us with thy juice all kinds of corn, each sort of nourishment, and, Soma, all felicities.

As thine, O Indu, is the praise, and thine what springeth from the juice, Seat thee on the dear sacred grass.

And, finding for us kine and steeds, O Soma, with thy juice flow on Through days that fly most rapidly.

As one who conquers, ne’er subdued, attacks and stays the enemy, thus, Vanquisher of thousands! flow.