By 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.

Within Trita’s twain jaw-stones, choosing the hidden track, he sped through the seven courts of sacrifice and so came home again unto the seat he loveth best.

Across the triple sieve, upon Trita’s triple back, he pours in a flashing torrent—up, awaken wealth!—and the steadfast one doth mete each station of his road.

The seven Mothers, rushing rivers, schooled him like an initiate when first he shone for glory; and, minding well their lore, he standeth a treasure undying amid all treasures.

Under his ordinance the gods, one will, no guile between them, stand arrayed; keenly coveted are thy joys, O Soma, for the heavenly throng delighteth therein.

That germ the Truth-strong sired, lovely to behold, the liberal Poet of the rite whom many seek—him do the bounties follow.

Toward him haste the twin maidens of Truth, ever youthful, joined yet each her own; while priests in due array outstretch the sacrifice, they anoint the shining draught.

By thine unshaken will, with eyes of flame, thou hast flung wide Heaven’s penned fold and in the hallowed work hast driven forth the vision-power of Truth.