THEY cleanse the Gold-hued: like a red Steed is he yoked, and Soma in the jar is mingled with the milk.
He sendeth out his voice, and many loving friends of him the highly lauded hasten with their songs.
The many sages utter words in unison, while into Indra's throat they pour the Soma juice, when, with the ten that dwell together closely joined, the men whose hands are skilful cleanse the lovely meath.
He goes upon his way, unresting, to the cows, over the roaring sound which Sarya's Daughter loves. The Falcon brought it to him for his own delight: now with the twofold kindred sisters is his home.
Washed by the men, stone-pressed, dear on the holy grass, faithful to seasons, Lord of cattle from of old, most liberal, completing offering for men, O Indra, pure bright Soma, indu, flows for thee.
O Indra, urged by arms of men and poured in streams, Soma flows on for thee afterαΈ₯is Godlike kind. Plans thou fulfillest, gatherest thoughts for offering: in the bowls sits the Gold-hued like a roosting bird.
Sages well-skilled in work, intelligent, drain out the stalk that roars, the Sage, the Everlasting One. The milk, the hymns unite them with him in the place of offering, his seat who is produced anew.
Earth's central point, sustainer of the mighty heavens, distilled into the streams, into the waters' wave, as Indra's thunderbolt, Steer with farspreading wealth, Soma is flowing on to make the heart rejoice.
Over the earthly region flow thou on thy way, helping the praiser and the pourer, thou Most Wise. Let us not lack rich treasure reaching to our home, an. May we clothe ourselves in manifold bright wealth.
Hither, O Indu, unto us a hundred gifts of steeds, a thousand gifts of cattle and of gold, Measure thou forth, yea, splendid ample strengthening food do thou, O Indu, heed this laud of ours.