Yea, saith my soul—cattle and steed are mine to claim— Have I drunk of the soma? Yea!

Forth I go, as stormwinds loosed, lifted high by draughts divine— Have I drunk of the soma? Yea!

The draughts have raised me up, as fleet steeds bear aloft a wain— Have I drunk of the soma? Yea!

A thought drew nigh to me, as a lowing cow seeketh her dearling— Have I drunk of the soma? Yea!

As a craftsman shapeth his chariot’s frame, so do I with heart entwine the thought— Have I drunk of the soma? Yea!

For the tribes of five are to me as naught, not even dust on the wind— Have I drunk of the soma? Yea!

Nor are both world-halves worth so much as one wing of mine— Have I drunk of the soma? Yea!

By mine own greatness have I o’ertopped the heavens and this vast earth— Have I drunk of the soma? Yea!

Zounds! I shall set the earth down—here, or mayhap over there— Have I drunk of the soma? Yea!

I shall strike the ground with fire and wrath—here, or yonder— Have I drunk of the soma? Yea!

One wing of mine is set in heaven, the other I have dragged beneath— Have I drunk of the soma? Yea!

Lo, I stand here, greater than great, upborne unto the clouds— Have I drunk of the soma? Yea!

As a well-furnished house, I go forth bearing the gods’ offerings— Have I drunk of the soma? Yea!