Their great largess hath been made known. All living things are loosed from the dark; the great light, gift of the forefathers, hath arisen. The broad way for the holy offering is now seen.

High in the heavens stand they who give the sacred gift.
They who grant steeds walk with the sun; they who give gold take part in deathless being; they who give raiment lengthen their days upon the earth, O Soma.

The holy gift is Heaven’s own portion, a thing set apart for the gods; it is not for the miser, for he doth not give.

Yet many give for dread of shame rather than love of good.

The keen of sight behold it as the wind, with a hundred streams; they see it as the song that findeth the sun, as the fire-fed offering.

They who give in the hallowed hall draw forth the holy gift with its seven mothers.

He who bringeth the sacred gift goeth first as the bidden guest; he taketh the foreplace as leader of men.

Methinks he alone is lord of the folk—he who first did seek out the sacred gift.

Men say of him: he is the seer, the maker of holy speech, the guide of the rite, the singer of the chant, the speaker of solemn words.

He knoweth the threefold body of the flame-born god—he who first did prosper by the sacred gift.

The sacred gift bringeth the horse, and bringeth the kine, and bringeth what is golden and bright.
The sacred gift winneth the food whereon our breath of life doth feed.
He who hath wisdom maketh the sacred gift his shield.

The givers are not dead, nor fallen into loss.
The givers are not undone, nor do they stumble.
This world in its fullness, and the sun itself, is the reward the sacred gift bestoweth.

The givers first did win the womb of sweet scent; they won the bride in her fair array.
They won the right to the inward draught of the cup; they prevailed o’er the unbidden who would thrust forth their hands.

For the giver the swift steed is made ready; for him the maiden doth wait in beauty adorned.
His dwelling is as a pond of lotuses, shining fair as the halls of the gods.

The well-yoked horses bear the giver onward; smoothly doth the chariot of the sacred gift roll.
O gods, uphold the giver in the strife; let him o’ercome his foes in the day of meeting.