1 Flow on for the Mighty, carefully poured out: let sickness stay afar together with the fiends.

Let not the double-tongued delight themselves with thy juice, here be thy flowing drops laden with opulence.

2 O Purifier, urge us forward in the fight: thou art the vigour of the righteous, the well-loved drink.

Smite thou our enemies who raise the shout of joy: drive away our foes.

3 Unharmed, best Cheerer, thou flowest on: thou, even thou thyself, art the noblest food of the servants of the Mighty.

Full many a wise man lifts to thee the song of praise, and hails thee as sovereign of this world.

4 Wondrous, with hundred streams, hymned in a thousand songs, the drop pours out for the Mighty his delightful sweetness.

Winning us land and waters, flow thou hitherward: Rainer of bounties, make broad way for us.

5 Sounding within the beaker thou art balmed with milk: thou passest through the fleecy filter all at once.

Carefully cleansed and decked like a prize-winning steed, thou hast flowed down within the throat of the Mighty.

6 Flow onward sweet of flavour for the Heavenly Race, for the Mighty sweet, whose name is easily invoked:

Flow sweet for the Friend, the All-Seeing, and the winds, rich in sweetness, inviolable for the Lord of Prayer.

7 Ten rapid fingers deck the Courser in the jar: with hymns the holy singers send their voices forth.

The filtering juices hasten to their eulogy, the drops that gladden find their way to the heart of the Mighty.

8 While thou art purified pour on us hero strength, great, far-extended shelter, spacious pasturage.

Let no oppression master this our holy work: may we gain all opulence through thee.

9 The Steer who sees afar hath risen above the sky: the Sage hath caused the lights of heaven to give their shine.

The King is passing through the filter with a roar: they drain the milk of heaven from him who looks on men.

10 High in the vault of heaven, unceasing, honey-tongued, the Loving Ones drain out the mountain-haunting Steer,

The drop that hath grown great in waters, in the lake sweetness-rich, in the stream's wave and in the cleansing sieve.

11 The Loving Ones besought with many voices the Eagle who had flown away to heaven.

Hymns kiss the Youngling worthy of laudation, resting on earth, the Bird of golden colour.

12 High to heaven's vault hath the Guardian risen, beholding all his varied forms and figures.

His ray hath shone abroad with gleaming splendour: pure, he hath lighted both the worlds, the Parents.