1 More beauteous than the beautiful, as the bolt of the Mighty, this sweet-rich juice hath sounded in the vat.

Dropping with oil, abundant, streams of worship flow unto him like milch-kine, lowing, with their milk.

2 On flows that Ancient One whom, hitherward, from heaven, sped through the region of the air, the Falcon snatched.

He, quivering with alarm and terrified in heart before the bow-armed archer, holdeth fast the sweet.

3 May those first freshest drops of juice effused flow on, their way to bring us mighty strength in kine.

Beauteous as serpents, worthy to be looked upon, they whom each sacred gift and all our prayers have pleased.

4 May that much-lauded drop, with a heart inclined to us, well-knowing, fight against our enemies.

He who hath brought the germ beside the Strong One's seat moves onward to the widely opened stall of kine.

5 The active potent juice of heaven is flowing on, by the great All-Seeing Lord whom the forward man can ne'er deceive.

The Friend, the Holy, hath been pressed for troubled times, neighing like an impatient horse amid the herd.