1 Born like a youngling he hath sounded in the wood, when he, the Red, the Strong, would win the light of heaven.

He comes with heavenly seed that makes the water swell: him for wide-spreading shelter we implore with prayer.

2 A far-extended pillar that supports the sky, the stalk, filled full, moves itself every way.

He shall bring both these great worlds while the rite proceeds: the Sage holds these that move together, and all food.

3 Wide space hath he who follows the right path of mercy, and mighty, well-made food, sweetness blent with juice;

He who from hence commands the rain, Steer of the kine, Leader of floods, who helps us hence, who claims our laud.

4 Butter and milk are drawn from the animated cloud; thence life is produced, the centre of worship.

Him the Most Bounteous Ones, ever united, love; him as our Friend the men who make all swell rain down.

5 The stalk hath sounded, following with the wave: he swells with sap for man the skin which the righteous enjoy.

Upon the lap of mercy he lays the germ, by means whereof we gain children and progeny.

6 In the third region which distils a thousand streams, may the Exhaustless Ones descend with procreant power.

The kindred Four have been sent downward from the heavens: dropping with oil they bring life and sacred gifts.

7 The juice assumes white colour when he strives to gain: the bounteous Lord knows full many a precious boon.

Down the steep slope, through song, he comes to worship, and he will burst the water-holding cask of heaven.

8 Yea, to the shining milk-anointed beaker, as to his goal, hath stepped the conquering Courser.

Pious-souled men have sent their gift of cattle unto Kaksivan of the hundred winters.

9 Thy juice, when thou art blended with the streams, flows, purifying, through the long wool of the sheep.

So, cleansed by sages, O best giver of delight, grow sweet for the servants of the Mighty, as their drink.