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Rig Veda
Book 9, Hymn C. Soma Pavamana
1. THE Guileless Ones are singing praise to Indra's well beloved Friend,
As, in the morning of its life, the mothers lick the new-born calf.
2 O Indu, while they cleanse thee bring, O Soma, doubly-waxing wealth
Thou in the worshipper's abode causest all treasures to increase.
3 Set free the. song which mind hath yoked, even as thunder frees the rain:
All treasures of the earth and heaven, O Soma, thou dost multiply.
4 Thy stream when thou art pressed runs on like some victorious warrior's steed
Hastening onward through the fleece like a fierce horse who wins the prize.
5 Flow on, Sage Soma, with thy stream to give us mental power and strength,
Effused for Indra, for his drink, for Mitra and for Varuṇa.
6 Flow to the filter with thy stream, effused, best winner, thou, of spoil,
O Soma, as most rich in sweets for Indra, Viṣṇu, and the Gods.
7 The mothers, void of guiles, caress thee Golden-coloured, in the sieve,
As cows, O Pavamana, lick the new-born calf, as Law commands.
8 Thou, Pavamana, movest on with wondrous rays to great renown.
Striving within the votary's house thou drivest all the glooms away.
9 Lord of great sway, thou liftest thee above the heavens, above the earth.
Thou, Pavamana hast assumed thy coat of mail in majesty.
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