Rig Veda

Book 9, 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.