When 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 steadfast fold for grazing herds.

Again he layeth bare the realm of the deathless; the spacious worlds expand for the seeker of the Sun.
Those brightening insights, fat as kine on kindly pasture, true in their deed, have low’d aloud unto the shining drop.

The Poet compasseth all poesy, even as the champion car of the Sun ringeth all the spheres; to win renown for mortal men he toils among the gods, and for new-found wealth he laboureth once more with the tireless powers.

Born of splendour, he issueth forth in splendour; for the singers he appointeth glory and quickening breath.
Arrayed in brilliance, they fare unto immortality; their meetings are fulfilled beside the measured-stepping Flame.

Hasten to draught and sustenance, to steed and to herd; widen the light and make the gods rejoice.
For all these boons lie easy to thy conquering hand, O self-cleansing Soma; thou drivest the foemen far.