THEY from the spouting drop have sounded at the rim: naves speed together to the place of offering.
That Devas hath formed, to seize, three lofty heights. The ships of truth have borne the pious man across.
The strong Steers, gathering, have duly stirred themselves,and over the stream's wave the friends sent forth the song. Engendering the hymn, with flowing streams of meath, Indra's dear body have they caused to wax in strength.
With sanctifying gear they sit around the song: their ancient Father guards their holy work from harm. Indra hath o’erspread the mighty sea of air. Sages had power to hold him in sustaining floods.
Sweet-tongued, exhaustless, they have sent their voices down togetlier, in Heaven's vault that pours a thousand streams. His wildly-restless warders never close an eye: in every place are found the bonds that bind man last.
O'er Sire and Mother they have roared in unison bright with the verse of praise, burning up riteless men, Blowing away with supernatural might from Earth and from the heavens the swarthy skin which Indra hates.
Those which, as guides of song and counsellors of speed, were manifested from their ancient dwelling place. From these the eyeless and the deaf have turned aside: the wicked travel not the pathway of the Law.
What time the filter with a thousand streams is stretched, the thoughtful sages purify their song therein. Bright-coloured are their spies, vigorous, void of guile, excellent, fair to see, beholders of mankind.
Guardian of Law, most wise, h. May not be deceived: three Purifiers hath he set within his heart. With wisdom he beholds all creatures that exist: he drives into the pit the hated riteliess ones.
The thread of offering spun in the cleansing sieve, on Indra's tongue-tip, by supernatural might. This, by their striving, have the prudent ones attained: he who hath not this power shall sink into the pit.