Mandala 9

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Texts

IX.1Cleanse thyself, O Soma, in the fairest and most gladdening stream, when thou art pressed for Indra's draught.IX.2Cleanse thyself swiftly through the sieve, O Soma, pursuing the gods in thy flight.IX.3This god, the deathless one, flieth as a bird on the wing, hasting toward the wooden cups to take his seat.IX.4Win glory, Soma—win a name renowned, thou self-cleansing draught— then better our lot.IX.5Enkindled, the self-cleansing Lord blazeth forth on every side, a joy-bringer, ever-roaring bull of flame.IX.6O Soma, thou mighty bull, make thyself pure in the gladdening stream as thou seekest the gods, as thou seekest us, through the wool of the sheep.IX.7The drops have surged along the path of truth, set firm upon its shining ground, the glorious ones discerning its course with wise delight.IX.8These soma-draughts have flowed unto Indra’s longing, uplifting his might and the boldness of his arm.IX.9The poet of the heavens maketh the round of his own lifebreath, driven betwixt his two granddaughters, even as he is pressed—he whose heart is bent to song.IX.10While being pressed, the soma flows roar as chariots on the charge, seeking glory as do steeds in battle, and they surge forth in quest of wealth.IX.11Sing ye unto him, ye men—to the self-cleansing draught, for he maketh his way unto the gods on high.IX.12The soma-drops have swelled and surged—sweetly pressed where truth doth sit, most honeyed of draughts for great Indra.IX.13As he is cleansed, Soma doth rush in a thousand streams beyond the fleece, to meet with Vāyu and with Indra in holy haste.IX.14The poet moveth round and forth, borne upon the swell of the river, bringing the deed that many long to see fulfilled.IX.15This one driveth with foresight along the fine-spun fleece, a champion borne on swift-footed wains, riding forth to meet great Indra in his course.IX.16The pressers drive thy sap through their arms, O Soma, for rapture's fire. Etaśa doth storm like the swelling sea.IX.17Like rivers rushing headlong down the slope, breaking all that bars their way, the swift soma streams have been loosed in tumult and speed.IX.18Mountain-born Soma, being pressed, hath flowed about the filter. Thou art he who bestoweth wholeness in the raptures of delight.IX.19O Soma, whatever shining good, whether of the heavens or of the earth, is meet for song— bring thou that hither as thou art made pure.IX.20Forth the poet doth hasten, threading the fleece of the sheep, in pursuit of the gods, having laid low all who withstood him.IX.21These run for Indra—these drops, these eager draughts of soma, they bring delight and find the sun in their rising.IX.22These fleet-flowing soma draughts have been sped forth, as prize-chariots loosed from the line, their surging sent in surges—IX.23The swift-flowing soma hath surged in streams of honeyed joy, rushing forth toward all our songs and lays.IX.24The soma juices run their course—the self-cleansing drops flow forth. Made ready, they are adorned amid the waters.IX.25Purify thyself, thou who bringest craft to its fullness, that the gods may drink, O tawny one— the gladdening draught for the Storm-lords and for Vāyu.IX.26Him have the soul-stirr’d poets tended, the prize-bearer in Aditi’s bosom, through the fair fleece and by the light of knowing.IX.27Lo, this one—the well-lauded poet—spilleth o’er into the sieve, smiting down all that faileth, even as he is made clean.IX.28This one—the prize-bearer, urged by men, and all-knowing as the lord of thought— runneth swift through the wool of the sheep.IX.29His streams break forth—the streams of the pressed bull, who in his might doth serve the gods in their due order.IX.30His streams have broken forth, O storm-born one, and flow as they will into the cleansing veil. Whilst he is made pure, he sendeth forth his voice.IX.31The self-cleansing Soma streams have gone forth, laden with aim and fullness. They bring to light the hidden wealth.IX.32The soma-draughts, stirred to mirth, pressed at the holy rite, go forth in strength for the renown of our well-doer.IX.33Forth go the soma-draughts, hearkening to the breath of song, as billows of water roll, toward the wooden cups as wild bulls toward the thicket.IX.34Being urged, being driven, the drop doth spring forth in full stream, breaking strongholds asunder with its might.IX.35Bringing us broad wealth, O self-cleansing one, cleanse thyself in a holy stream whereby thou shalt bring us into the light.IX.36He is loosed like a steed loosed to run the course, poured through the filter, pressed into the twin cups.IX.37He, the bullish Soma, pressed for the draught, doth rush into the sieve, shattering the fiends as he goeth, with longing set upon the gods.IX.38This selfsame one—a bull, a chariot—doth burst through the fleece of sheep, hastening to the prize a thousandfold.IX.39Thou of lofty thought, thou swiftly runnest thy rounds through thine own dear realm, unto the place where men shall cry, “Lo, the gods are here!”IX.40Made pure, the boundless one hath risen against the scorners. The poets adorn the seer with thoughts not their own, but breathed from above.IX.41Those who strode forth as cattle in frenzy—wild, unruled, and storming, they smote and cast down the black-skinned foe.IX.42Begetting the shining halls of heaven, begetting the sun midst the waters, He clotheth himself in kine, in waters—the tawny-hued one— By an elder thought, a god from gods, He cleanseth himself in the...IX.43He who is groomed like a well-fed steed, milk-blent for gladness, the sweet and stirring one— him we array in raiment of song.IX.44O drop, thou rushest forth to spread us wide, like a river swelling with wave, unbridled, bearing thyself unto the gods.IX.45Set thine eye upon men, and make thyself clean for rapture— for the hunt of the gods,IX.46They are let loose to seek the gods, like steeds that bring reward, rushing forth, waxed strong upon the heights of the hills.IX.47Through this fair rite is Soma made mighty, yea, mightier than the mighty. With joy enkindled, he doth rise and play the bull.IX.48Thou who bearest thy manly might among the high thrones of heaven, we beseech thee for a thing most dear, through this fair rite well wrought.IX.49Purify thyself, and send us rain— a swell of waters from the heav’nly height, sweet draughts aloft, untainted by ill.IX.50Thy snortings rise as the roar of a river’s swell; spur thou the rim of the wheel of song.IX.51O Adhvaryu, send forth the Soma, stone-pressed and surging, into the woven sieve; cleanse it well, that Indra may drink.IX.52He that ruleth the heavens, bringeth riches, and beareth the prize to our hands with the stalk—being pressed, rush thou forth into the cleansing cloth.IX.53Thy blasts are risen, O bearer of the stone, sundering the might of fiends. Cast aside thine foes that compass thee round.IX.54In thine ageless splendor they have drawn the glistening, measureless milk from the seer whose guerdons number in thousands.IX.55Flow thou toward us, grain upon grain, fruit upon fruit, thy stalk bearing fullness, O Soma—bring with thee all gifts of fair fortune.IX.56Swiftly doth Soma course, as high-born truth itself, whirling through the filter, shattering the fiends, ever in search of the gods.IX.57Thy streams go forth unfailing, as rain from the heavens, ever flowing toward the thousandfold reward.IX.58In the crossing, the quickening one doth run—the stream from the crushed stalk. —In the crossing, the quickening one doth run.IX.59Cleanse thyself, O Soma—bringer of kine, bringer of steeds, winner of all things sweet and fair. Bring unto us a hoard of offspring, a treasure of life.IX.60Lift up thy song to the boundless, self-cleansing one— to the drop with a thousand eyes, sing with voice full of praise.IX.61Flow thou around in chase of him, O drop, who in thy rapture didst strike down the ninety and nine.IX.62These drops have surged forth, swiftly crossing the cloth, bearing with them all tokens of good fortune.IX.63In cleansing thyself, O Soma, bring us riches by the thousand, and a host of noble heroes; make firm our claims to renown.IX.64A bull art thou, O Soma, a radiant might— a bull who heedeth his own bold laws, O god.IX.65The rosy-fingered ones speed the Sun; the sister-kin urge forth their lord; those who seek the mighty hasten the mighty drop.IX.66Cleanse thyself, thou who art shared among all scattered tribes, rushing toward all the fruits of songcraft, a fellow to thy fellows, worthy of solemn call.IX.67Thou, O Soma, art the upholder and strengthener, mightiest in the rite. Cleanse thyself, and set forth wealth in readiness.IX.68Forth toward the god have the honey’d drops streamed, even as milk-kine do; seated upon the holy grass, gifted with voice, with udders full, they’ve donned the ruddy swirl as raiment drawn from kine.IX.69Like an arrow drawn upon the string, so is my thought aimed forth— and loosed as a calf to the teats of its dam.IX.70Thrice seven milk-kine have poured for him the true draught, drawn from the farthest, foremost heaven.IX.71The storm-swift one is sent surging, gift-cow beside him, to take his seat in this holy place. Watchful, he hunts out falsehood, and wardeth off the fiend. The tawny one adorneth his brow—clouds and m...IX.72They smooth the tawny one, the fallow bay, as though yoking a chestnut steed. Soma is anointed with kine’s milk in the basin. When his voice is lifted, the ring of many-hearted friends—howe’er many— s...IX.73In the jaw of the stones, as the droplet blew its breath, they rang as one. The bonds of kin have knit within the womb of truth. The lord hath given up his threefold crown to be seized; the boats of t...IX.74Like a calf fresh-born, he hath roared into the wooden bowl. When the ruddy racer striveth for the sun, he goeth with the milk-strong seed of heaven.IX.75Glad of heart, he doth cleanse himself, turning unto his own dear names— names by which the ever-young doth wax in might.IX.76The bearer of the sky doth cleanse himself— the sap that bringeth forth deeds, the craft of the gods, lauded by men.IX.77This honeyed one hath cried aloud within the pail—Indra’s own mace, more wondrous than all marvels. The fair milkers of truth, oozing with ghee, come lowing in haste unto him, as milk-cows come laden...IX.78The King, begetting speech, hath poured himself forth; clad in the waters, he seeketh the kine.IX.79Let not our tawny drops be stayed in their flow— forth let them run, when press’d, unto them that dwell in the heights of heaven.IX.80It purifieth itself—the flood of Soma, whose gaze is upon mankind. With truth he calleth the gods down from the heights. With the bellow of Bṛhaspati he hath burst forth; like the seas, the waters enf...IX.81The adorned waves of self-cleansing Soma fare forth unto the belly of Indra, when, drawn with the curds and the shining yield of kine, the pressings have gladdened the giver’s heart, the hero made for...IX.82Soma is pressed—the ruddy, tawny bull. Wondrous as a king he roareth forth to the kine. While he is cleansed, he whirleth round the sheep’s fair fleece, to rest, like a falcon, upon his womb brimmed w...IX.83The filter is spread wide for thee, O lord of hallowed utterance. Pressing forward, thou wheelest round its limbs on every side. The raw, whose frame hath not felt the heat, may not reach it; only the...IX.84Cleanse thyself—O thou who gladdenest the gods, unfettered, who win the waters— for Indra, for Varuṇa, for Vāyu. Make for us this day a broad expanse, with well-being in its train. Lift thy voice to t...IX.85O Soma, being well-pressed, flow thou round for Indra’s sake. Let all affliction pass away, and every devilish craft be driven out. Let not the double-hearted draw nigh to thy gladdening sap; but let...IX.87Run thou forth about the cask; be seated; and, cleansed by men's hands, haste thee to the prize. As one groometh a steed meet for the crown, so they lead thee by reins to the sacred grass.IX.88This Soma is bruised for thee, O Indra—it cleanseth itself for thy delight. Drink thou of it—of that which thou hast made thine own, which thou hast chosen, the drop, the draught, Soma, that is yoked...IX.89This draught-steed hath poured forth upon the ways; like rain from the high heavens, the self-cleansing one doth run.IX.90Urged onward, the Sire of both the worlds rolleth forth as a triumphal car, eager for the prize. To mighty Indra he hasteth, whetting his keen-bladed shafts, and gathereth all rich bounty into his han...IX.91In billowy surge he is loosed, as at a course for chariots—the first and fire-kindled sage, keen of ken. The ten sister-threads urge on the draught-steed that rideth the sheep’s broad back toward the...IX.92The tawny draught, that living herb, is pressed and surgeth round the straining-cloth as a war-car urged to glory. While he is cleansed he sendeth forth a clarion cry for Indra, and with sweet libatio...IX.93The ten sister-threads, grown mighty in one accord—the keen conceits of the All-wise, fleet as coursers—have deftly tended thee. The tawny child of the Sun sped swift around the filtering wool, and, l...IX.94When sage-born visions strive about him—as wreathéd honours round a victor, as kindreds circle the Sun— he chooseth the waters and lustrateth himself, shaping subtle thought as one would build a stead...IX.95The tawny draught roareth still as he is loosed, as he nestleth in the wooden womb, as his brightness is strained and clarified. Led by mortal hands, he putteth the kine upon him as a shining garment,...IX.96Foremost captain and champion, fronting the thundering cars, goeth abroad in quest of kine; his whole array quivereth with eager fire. To prosper Indra’s summons for his comrades, Soma clotheth himsel...IX.98O shining Drop, stream unto us the hoard desired of many, that peerless wealth which beareth a thousand gifts, that blaze of might which overmastereth even the noble and renowned.IX.99For the bold and joyous One the bow is drawn, a token of his manly might; and those who seek the Great weave for their Sovereign a radiant mantle, set before the van of inspired speech.IX.100The guileless cry aloud to him who is dear unto Indra; and the Mothers, as milk-cows their newborn calf, lap the tawny draught at his first uprising.IX.101With victory already won upon the sacred stalk, the tawny draught is pressed to quicken joy; pierce afar, good comrades, the long-tongued cur that would lap the offering dry.IX.102By his mighty deed the River-Child, born of the vast and solemn floods, stirreth anew the seer-sight of Truth and folds all cherished things within his circling reach, even now once more.IX.103Unto the master of the rite—even Soma, while his brightness is refined—I lift my fashioned speech as one proffers a precious gift, bearing it with gathered thought, that he may taste its sweetness.IX.104Comrades, sit ye down and lift your song while the radiant draught is strained; with holy gifts attend him, as a tender child is cherisht for his splendor.IX.105Comrades, lift your voices whilst the shining draught is cleansed, that your own hearts may leap with gladness. As a tender babe is soothed with gifts and gentle words, so do ye sweeten him with sacri...IX.106Let the new-pressed draughts haste to Indra—the tawny torrents to the Thunder-Bull—drops born of his quickened ear that track the hidden sun.IX.107Sprinkle now the sacred draught—the pressed and potent Soma—high as the loftiest offering; for the virile god, plunging through the waters, hath the priest with stones compelled it forth.IX.108Purify thyself, O Soma most honey-sweet, for Indra’s quaffing; be the draught that steels resolve and sways the heights of heaven.IX.109Run forth in circling splendour for Indra, O Soma, sweet likewise to Mitra, to Pūṣan, and to Bhaga.IX.110Rush on, sweep wide in conquering circles, scattering every hindrance. As faithful surety for our debts, speed on to master all spite and rancour.IX.111Baptized in aureate light he yokes his own swift stallions and rides clean over every quarrel, even as the Sun drives forth his self-harnessed team. Within the surging flood of the press he flashes ru...IX.112Truly, our conceits are many and the duties of folk diverse: the wright mendeth the sundered plank, the leech restoreth the broken limb, the holy mixer seeketh him that presseth the Soma. O shining Dr...IX.113Let Indra the Foebreaker quaff the reed-born Soma, nerve in his breast for a mighty deed; O drop, flow round about for Indra.IX.114Who treads the courts of the self-cleansing draught—on him men prophesy a line of comely sons; for he hath fastened his thought upon thee, O Soma. —O shining Drop, wheel thy circuit round for Indra.Mandala 9| 1-25 | 26-50 | 51-75 | 76-100 | 101-114 | | | | | | | | ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- | --------------------------------------------------------------...TaleForth stream thy heady draughts, swift and stirring, driven by the seers’ insight, O thou self-cleansing one, even as the fleet-winged birds that are born in haste.TalePurified by His own swift urging, the god blends His living sap with the Immortals. Pressed and set to rasp about the straining-cloth, He circles as a Hotar who paces the fixed stalls of the sacrifici...