1 Hitherward have the Soma streamed, the drops while they are purified:

When blent, in waters they are rinsed.

2 The milk hath run to meet them like floods rushing down a precipice:

They come, being cleansed, to be offered in God's name.

3 O Purifier, thou art flowing for the Mighty One's sake:

The men have seized and lead thee forth.

4 Victorious, to be hailed with joy, flow, delighting men,

To the Lord who ruleth o'er mankind.

5 Thou, when, effused by stones, thou runnest to the filter, art

Ready for God's high decree.

6 Flow on, best Vrtra-slayer; flow meet to be hailed with joyful lauds.

Pure, purifying, wonderful.

7 Pure, purifying is it called, the Soma of the meath effused,

Slayer of sinners, dear to the righteous.