1 We compass Thee like waters, we whose grass is trimmed and Soma pressed.

Here where the filter pours its stream, Thy worshippers round Thee, O Vrtra-slayer, sit.

2 Men, Vasu! by the Soma, with lauds call Thee to the foremost place:

When comest Thou athirst unto the juice as home, O Lord, like a bellowing bull?

3 Boldly, Bold Hero, bring us spoil in thousands for the Kanvas' sake.

O active and bountiful Lord, with eager prayer we crave the yellow-hued with store of kine.

4 Medhyatithi, to God sing, accept the juice to make Thee glad.

Close-knit to His Bay Steeds, bolt-armed, beside the juice is He: His chariot is of gold.

5 He who is praised as strong of hand both right and left, most wise and bold:

God who, rich in hundreds, gathers thousands up, honoured as breaker-down of forts.

6 The bold of heart whom none provokes, who stands in bearded confidence;

Much-lauded, very glorious, overthrowing foes, strong Helper, like a bull with might.

7 Who knows what vital power He wins, beside the flowing juice?

This is the fair-cheeked God who, joying in the gift, breaks down the castles in His strength.

8 As a wild elephant rushes on this way and that way, mad with heat,

None may compel Thee, yet come hither to the gift: Thou movest mighty in Thy power.

9 When He, the Mighty, ne'er o'erthrown, steadfast, made ready for the fight,

When the Bountiful Lord lists to His praiser's call, He will not stand aloof, but come.

10 Yea, verily, Thou art a Bull, with a bull's rush, whom none may stay:

Thou Mighty One, art celebrated as a Bull, famed as a Bull both near and far.

11 Thy reins are very bulls in strength, bulls' strength is in Thy golden whip.

Thy car, O Bountiful, Thy Bays are strong as bulls: Thou, Satakratu, art a Bull.

12 Let the strong presser press for Thee. Bring hither, Thou straight-rushing Bull.

The mighty makes the mighty run in flowing streams for Thee whom Thy Bay Horses bear.

13 Come, Thou most potent, come to receive the savoury Soma juice.

The Bountiful, very wise, will quickly come to hear the songs, the prayer, the hymns of praise.

14 When Thou hast mounted on Thy car let Thy yoked Bay Steeds carry Thee,

Past other men's libations, Lord of Hundred Powers, Thee, Vrtra-slayer, Thee our Friend.

15 O Thou Most Lofty One, accept our laud as nearest to Thine heart.

May our libations be most sweet to make Thee glad, O Bestower of Soma, Heavenly Lord.

16 Neither in Thy decree nor mine, but in another's he delights,-

The man who brought us unto this.

18 His pair of horses, rushing on in their wild transport, draw His car:

High-lifted is the stallion's yoke.