Hymn to Soma

Rigveda IX.97 is a sūkta (hymn of praise) from Maṇḍala 9 of the Rigveda, one of the 1,028 hymns organized within the ten books of the oldest Veda. The Rigveda was composed approximately 1700–1100 BCE in Vedic Sanskrit and preserved through oral transmission across millennia.

This is a Good Works Translation produced by the New Tianmu Anglican Church from the Sanskrit of the Śākala recension.

Purified 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 sacrificial beasts.

Clad in festal raiment of good omen, a mighty bard of riddling speech, coil Thyself within the twin cups as Thou art refined, wide-eyed and watchful in Thy chase of the gods.

Belov’d and bright above all brightness, our kinsman beside us, He is combed upon the sheep’s soft back. Cry aloud and hasten in Thy cleansing, and shield us ever with Thy blessings.

Lift up the song, and let our voices resound unto the gods; speed Soma for the richest prize. The sweet one strains across the fleece and sits in the tub, a seeker of the gods on our behalf.

The shining drop, come hither to consort with the deities, flows in a thousand rills for glad delight. Praised of mortals, He moves in His ancient realm unto Indra for a noble share.

As a bay that lusts for spoils, rush on for thy praiser in Thy purity. Let Thy rapturous draught reach Indra’s hand to seize. Drive the self-same chariot with the gods toward bounty, ever shielding us.

Uttering His song like the sage Uśanā, the god declares the lineages of heaven. Command of weight, of burning birthright, pure as a boar, He rasps along His course.

The wild geese wing to His keen war-fury, flocking homeward as bulls. In one accord the comrades sing a memorable music unto the self-cleansing lord.

He runs with the stride of the far-striding one; the kine, lowing, measure out their tribute to Him that sports at will. Sharp-horned, He fashions a vast fair face—tawny by day, argent by night.

The prize-winning drop, purifying, floods the fold with cattle; Soma awakens Indra’s might for exultation. He shatters demon force, turns back assaults, and widens space as king of the folk.

Enriched with honey, He streams across the fleece when the stones have milked Him, delighting in Indra’s fellowship, the exhilarating draught of the god for joy.

Still toward His cherished path He strains, gifting the gods with His own sap. The drop arrays Himself in rightful order, wrapped in the ten fingers upon the sheep’s back.

The ruddy Bull keeps roaring at the cows; bellowing, He fills both heaven and earth. Like Indra in the contest, His voice is heard; He speeds and makes His utterance plain.

Sweet to the palate, burgeoning with milk, Thou movest, stirring the honey’d herb. Cleansing Thyself, Thou thunderest even while poured for Indra, O Soma.

So cleanse Thyself, exultant for exaltation, bending Thy watery weapons. Enfold the glistening hue, seek out the kine, and haste to us when Thou art spilled, O Soma.

Gladdened, O drop, make smooth and open paths for us; purge Thyself on a spacious way and win us room. Cleave the hindrances as with a deadly blade and run the ridge, the woolly ridge.

Rain down upon us—heavenly, swift, refreshing drafts, fortune for herds, lively drops. Run, sundering these fetters, these nets, as freed and loosen’d curls, O drop.

Loosen, like a knot, the straight and crooked ways that lie bound up as Thou art purified, O Soma. Unyoked, like a bay steed newly loosed, neigh forth; speed, O god, as a stalwart man toward his hall.

Delightful for the divine conclave, for their rejoicing, circle the back of the sheep. In a thousand fragrant streams, past all deceiving, flow at the winning of prizes, at the overthrow of the proud.

Untethered, chariot-less, without a yoke, yet loosed like racers in the course, these gleaming draughts of Soma run. O gods, draw nigh and drink them.

O drop, wheel about the cloud, the flood within the beakers, to aid our quest for the gods. Grant us high wealth, mighty and thronging with heroes.

When speech, sprung from the seeker’s mind, had shaped Thee on the firm base of the foremost power, or face to face with the cattle, then the cows, lowing of their own accord, came to Thee—their pleasant lord, the drop within the vat.

The heavenly giver of drops moves forth swelling the sap; in verity He cleanses Himself for truth, all-wise. Bearing the kingly mandate, He reigns o’er the company, drawn earthward by ten reins.

With filters for His robes and men beneath His gaze, as king of gods and mortals He shines anew as lord of wealth; the drop beareth kindly truth, light to bear.

Like a steed that seeks renown, haste after Indra and Vāyu. Grant us a thousand lofty boons; grow rich in treasure while Thou art strained, O Soma.

Poured round in quest of the gods, let the soma-streams find a dwelling rich in valiant men, winning favor by rite, full of all delights, making dawn-oblations as skilled Hotars, supremely gladsome.

Therefore, O god Soma, cleanse Thyself for the conclave of heaven, to their great joy, their drink divine; we speed hard at the meeting. While Thou art pure, set the two broad worlds in good estate.

As a horse whinnies when the bulls yoke him, fearsome as a lion, swifter than thought, follow the paths bent hither, the straightest courses; bring us grace by Thy cleansing, O drop.

A hundred god-begotten streams surge forth, and a thousand the poets comb. By cleansing, O drop, bring down from heaven a means to triumph; Thou art leader of vast spoil.

Like day-born surges from the sky, His waves have swelled. As a king, the wise one breaks not his pact. Set in the place we purpose, like a son to his sire’s intent, bring this clan safety from overthrow by Thy purification.

Thy honeyed rills gush out when Thou art cleansed upon the fleece. Self-cleansing, purify Thyself as ground for kine. Born, Thou madest the sun swell with beams.

Ever roaring on truth’s own path, Thou beamest across the Immortal’s field. Giver of gladness, Thou cleansest Thyself for Indra, urging Thy speech with poet-thoughts.

O Soma, as a heavenly eagle cast Thine eye below; swell the streams by the rite in Thy godward chase. Enter the vat, O roaring drop, and draw near unto the solar ray.

The draught-horse wakes the triple voices, the hymn-seen verity, the inspired vision of the sacred word. The cows seek a herdsman; thoughts low eagerly to Soma.

To Soma run the milk-cows lowing; to Soma the seers cry with their minds. Pressed, He is cleansed as He is anointed; to Soma the songs, the triṣṭubh verses, lift their cry.

Thus, O Soma, spilled and purified, bring welfare to us through Thy cleansing. Enter Indra with a lofty shout; make speech strong and beget abundance.

True to the law, the wakeful inspired poet of thought, Soma, purified, hath sat in the cups—the server of eager rivalry, the deft-handed Adhvaryus, the charioteers of the rite, attending Him.

Purified nearby like the Sun’s Disposer, He hath filled both worlds and made them manifest. With His aid the winners of dear things gain their desire; He grants spoil as unto the victor.

The strengthening Strength-giver, purified, Soma the Rewarder, succors us with His light—by which our sires, knowing the path, discovering the sun, drew forth the kine from the rock.

As ocean he roared in his first expansion, engendering creatures as lord of creation. The Bull in the filter, on the fleecy back, Soma hath towered aloft, the drop being pressed.

The Buffalo Soma wrought this mighty deed, when, embryo of waters, He chose the gods. Cleansing Himself, He set strength within Indra; the drop begat the light within the sun.

Cheer Vāyu for his quest and for our weal; cheer Mitra and Varuṇa in Thy cleansing. Cheer the troop of the Maruts; cheer the gods; cheer Heaven and Earth, O god Soma.

Be Thou the straight smiter of the crooked, thrusting aside affliction and reproach. Perfect Thy milk with the milk of kine. Thou art Indra’s mate; we are thy companions.

Cleanse Thyself into honey’s sweetness, into a fountain of riches; by Thy purity bring us a hero and our share. Grow sweet for Indra, O drop, and from the sea bring us wealth by Thy purging.

Pressed in a stream and driving like a steed, Soma hath poured like a river to the deep for reward. He hath sat in the wooden womb while cleansing; the drop hath mingled with kine and waters.

This Soma cleanses for thee, O Indra, in the bowls, full of wisdom and power for thy longing—the charioteer with the eye of the sun, whose rush is true, loosed like the longing of god-seekers.

Purified with primeval vigor, hiding in the forms of Dawn the Daughter, he clothes himself in triple-shielding waters; rasping like a Hotar he drives toward the throngs.

Now, O god Soma, as charioteer, flow round for us in the twin cups while purifying—sweetest in water, honeyed, veracious, Thy thoughts fulfilling themselves like Savitar’s.

Speed to Vāyu in chase while hymned, to Mitra and Varuṇa in Thy cleansing, to the lofty spirit that quickens the wise thought and mounts the car, to Indra the bull with the mace in hand.

Rush toward Thy well-spun robes, toward kine that yield rich milk, while Thou art purified, toward glittering golden treasures to bear them hither, and toward the coursing steeds, O god Soma.

Hasten for us to the wealth of heaven and to all good of earth while cleansing, to that whereby we gain possession—to a seer’s fee for us like Jamadagni’s.

With this very purging bring treasures thus. At moon-hiding, run, O drop, into the lake. The ruddy coursing Sun is there, sped like the wind, and the wise one gives us the noble hero to spear the foe.

By this cleansing wash thyself for us at the famed ford of glorious gain. The challenger’s challenger shall shake off sixty thousand boons, like ripe fruit from a tree, for our delight.

Of Him—“Bull” His name—are two dread deadly bolts, be it at moon-hiding or at the fond embrace: He lulled the challengers to sleep and “snowed” them. Turn hence the league-less, the witless.

Thou drawest to three spread filters yet runnest upon one while cleansing. Thou art Bhaga, the giver of gifts; bountiful art thou to the bounteous, O drop.

He, all-knowing, of inspired counsel, cleanseth Himself—Soma, king of creation entire. Rousing the droplets at the rites, the drop courses over the fleece together.

The unerring buffaloes lick the drop; on his trail the poets scream like eagles. The keen-minded urge him with ten fingers and bathe his shape in watery sap.

With thee, O Soma, cleansing, we would forever draw the perfect cast at play. May Mitra and Varuṇa, Aditi, River, and Earth and Heaven concede us this.

Tale

In the days when the world was younger and the gods walked nearer to men, there lived in the high mountains a wondrous being called Soma the Golden. He was neither wholly of heaven nor wholly of earth, but dwelt between the two realms like morning mist that clings to the mountainside.

Now Soma possessed within himself a marvelous essence—a living sap that could grant strength to gods and wisdom to mortals. Each moon's turning, he would descend from his mountain dwelling, and the people would gather with their woolen cloths stretched tight across wooden frames, awaiting his arrival like shepherds awaiting the spring rains.

When Soma came among them, he would pour himself through their straining-cloths, and as he flowed, he sang. His voice was like the roaring of a great bull and the whisper of wind through wheat fields all at once. The wise men said he sang the lineages of heaven itself, though few could understand his riddling words.

"I am the Bay Horse who races without chariot!" he would cry as he coursed through the fleece. "I am the Wild Boar who knows the ancient paths! I wear the sun's face by day and the moon's silver by night!"

The priests would press him with stones worn smooth by generations of use, and ten fingers would guide his flow into twin cups of sacred wood. As he moved, his essence would separate into a thousand gleaming streams, each one singing its own note in the great song of transformation.

In those days, the god Indra, mightiest of the heavenly host, would wait eagerly for Soma's arrival. For when Soma's essence reached the Thunder God's lips, Indra's strength would swell like a river in flood. With this power, Indra had once shattered the great stone that imprisoned the celestial cattle, freeing the rains and the dawn-light for all the world.

But Soma was more than a mere drink for the gods. As he flowed, he would transform. Sometimes he appeared as a tawny eagle with eyes that could see into both past and future. Sometimes he took the form of a racing stallion whose hooves struck sparks from the very air. And sometimes he was simply a golden drop, perfect and complete, containing within himself all the wisdom of creation.

The wild geese of heaven would follow his passage, crying out in recognition of their king. The celestial cows would low in greeting, knowing him for their gentle lord who had helped free them from their prison of stone. Even the Morning Star herself would bend low to catch a glimpse of his radiance.

"I bring you more than drink," Soma would say to those who prepared him. "I bring you the power to see beyond the veil, to speak words that shape reality, to stand firm against all darkness."

And indeed, wherever Soma's essence touched, change followed. The crooked paths of the world would straighten. The nets and snares that caught men's feet would loosen and fall away. Space itself would widen, making room for new possibilities. Those who partook of him with pure hearts would find their voices strengthened for truth-telling and their eyes opened to wonders.

There came a time when the demon forces gathered, jealous of the joy Soma brought to gods and mortals alike. They sought to bind him, to twist his essence into something bitter and false. But Soma, in his wisdom, had foreseen this. He divided himself into countless drops, each one complete, each one carrying the whole of his power. The demons could not catch what flowed in all directions at once.

As he escaped their snares, Soma laughed, and his laughter was like spring rain on parched earth. "I am the untethered one," he sang. "I am the knot-loosener, the path-maker, the bringer of abundance. I flow where I will, and where I flow, life follows."

The gods drew near to drink of him—not just Indra, but Vāyu the Wind-Lord, Mitra and Varuṇa the Guardians of Order, and all the shining Maruts who ride the storm. Each received what they needed: strength for the strong, wisdom for the wise, joy for all.

To this day, they say, Soma still flows from his mountain home when the moon is dark and the need is great. The priests still spread their woolen cloths and sing the ancient songs. And sometimes, if you listen carefully to the sound of rushing water or the wind in the wheat, you can hear his voice still singing the secret names of things, still promising that the crooked shall be made straight and the bound shall be set free.

For Soma the Golden is the eternal transformer, the divine alchemist who turns the ordinary into the sacred, the mortal into the immortal, and the darkness into light. In him, heaven and earth meet and mingle, and from that meeting comes all good things—strength for heroes, songs for poets, rain for the earth, and hope for the hearts of men.

Thus ends the tale of Soma the Golden, the self-cleansing lord, the drop that contains oceans, the one who races without horses and conquers without weapons, bringing joy to the gods and blessing to all who seek him with pure hearts.

Colophon

This hymn is drawn from the Śākala recension of the Rigveda, composed approximately 1700–1100 BCE. This is a Good Works Translation produced by the New Tianmu Anglican Church, translated independently from the Sanskrit. Reference translations consulted during original translation are to be documented during audit.

Compiled and formatted for the Good Work Library by the New Tianmu Anglican Church, 2026.

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Source Text: ṛgveda IX.97

Sanskrit source text from the Aufrecht edition (1877) via GRETIL (Van Nooten & Holland input). Presented here for reference, study, and verification alongside the English translation above.

asya preṣā hemanā pūyamāno devo devebhiḥ sam apṛkta rasam |
sutaḥ pavitram pary eti rebhan miteva sadma paśumānti hotā || 1 ||

bhadrā vastrā samanyā3 vasāno mahān kavir nivacanāni śaṁsan |
ā vacyasva camvoḥ pūyamāno vicakṣaṇo jāgṛvir devavītau || 2 ||

sam u priyo mṛjyate sāno avye yaśastaro yaśasāṁ kṣaito asme |
abhi svara dhanvā pūyamāno yūyam pāta svastibhiḥ sadā naḥ || 3 ||

pra gāyatābhy arcāma devān somaṁ hinota mahate dhanāya |
svāduḥ pavāte ati vāram avyam ā sīdāti kalaśaṁ devayur naḥ || 4 ||

indur devānām upa sakhyam āyan sahasradhāraḥ pavate madāya |
nṛbhiḥ stavāno anu dhāma pūrvam agann indram mahate saubhagāya || 5 ||

stotre rāye harir arṣā punāna indram mado gacchatu te bharāya |
devair yāhi sarathaṁ rādho acchā yūyam pāta svastibhiḥ sadā naḥ || 6 ||

pra kāvyam uśaneva bruvāṇo devo devānāṁ janimā vivakti |
mahivrataḥ śucibandhuḥ pāvakaḥ padā varāho abhy eti rebhan || 7 ||

pra haṁsāsas tṛpalam manyum acchāmād astaṁ vṛṣagaṇā ayāsuḥ |
āṅgūṣya1m pavamānaṁ sakhāyo durmarṣaṁ sākam pra vadanti vāṇam || 8 ||

sa raṁhata urugāyasya jūtiṁ vṛthā krīḻantam mimate na gāvaḥ |
parīṇasaṁ kṛṇute tigmaśṛṅgo divā harir dadṛśe naktam ṛjraḥ || 9 ||

indur vājī pavate gonyoghā indre somaḥ saha invan madāya |
hanti rakṣo bādhate pary arātīr varivaḥ kṛṇvan vṛjanasya rājā || 10 ||

adha dhārayā madhvā pṛcānas tiro roma pavate adridugdhaḥ |
indur indrasya sakhyaṁ juṣāṇo devo devasya matsaro madāya || 11 ||

abhi priyāṇi pavate punāno devo devān svena rasena pṛñcan |
indur dharmāṇy ṛtuthā vasāno daśa kṣipo avyata sāno avye || 12 ||

vṛṣā śoṇo abhikanikradad gā nadayann eti pṛthivīm uta dyām |
indrasyeva vagnur ā śṛṇva ājau pracetayann arṣati vācam emām || 13 ||

rasāyyaḥ payasā pinvamāna īrayann eṣi madhumantam aṁśum |
pavamānaḥ saṁtanim eṣi kṛṇvann indrāya soma pariṣicyamānaḥ || 14 ||

evā pavasva madiro madāyodagrābhasya namayan vadhasnaiḥ |
pari varṇam bharamāṇo ruśantaṁ gavyur no arṣa pari soma siktaḥ || 15 ||

juṣṭvī na indo supathā sugāny urau pavasva varivāṁsi kṛṇvan |
ghaneva viṣvag duritāni vighnann adhi ṣṇunā dhanva sāno avye || 16 ||

vṛṣṭiṁ no arṣa divyāṁ jigatnum iḻāvatīṁ śaṁgayīṁ jīradānum |
stukeva vītā dhanvā vicinvan bandhūm̐r imām̐ avarām̐ indo vāyūn || 17 ||

granthiṁ na vi ṣya grathitam punāna ṛjuṁ ca gātuṁ vṛjinaṁ ca soma |
atyo na krado harir ā sṛjāno maryo deva dhanva pastyāvān || 18 ||

juṣṭo madāya devatāta indo pari ṣṇunā dhanva sāno avye |
sahasradhāraḥ surabhir adabdhaḥ pari srava vājasātau nṛṣahye || 19 ||

araśmāno ye 'rathā ayuktā atyāso na sasṛjānāsa ājau |
ete śukrāso dhanvanti somā devāsas tām̐ upa yātā pibadhyai || 20 ||

evā na indo abhi devavītim pari srava nabho arṇaś camūṣu |
somo asmabhyaṁ kāmyam bṛhantaṁ rayiṁ dadātu vīravantam ugram || 21 ||

takṣad yadī manaso venato vāg jyeṣṭhasya vā dharmaṇi kṣor anīke |
ād īm āyan varam ā vāvaśānā juṣṭam patiṁ kalaśe gāva indum || 22 ||

pra dānudo divyo dānupinva ṛtam ṛtāya pavate sumedhāḥ |
dharmā bhuvad vṛjanyasya rājā pra raśmibhir daśabhir bhāri bhūma || 23 ||

pavitrebhiḥ pavamāno nṛcakṣā rājā devānām uta martyānām |
dvitā bhuvad rayipatī rayīṇām ṛtam bharat subhṛtaṁ cārv induḥ || 24 ||

arvām̐ iva śravase sātim acchendrasya vāyor abhi vītim arṣa |
sa naḥ sahasrā bṛhatīr iṣo dā bhavā soma draviṇovit punānaḥ || 25 ||

devāvyo naḥ pariṣicyamānāḥ kṣayaṁ suvīraṁ dhanvantu somāḥ |
āyajyavaḥ sumatiṁ viśvavārā hotāro na diviyajo mandratamāḥ || 26 ||

evā deva devatāte pavasva mahe soma psarase devapānaḥ |
mahaś cid dhi ṣmasi hitāḥ samarye kṛdhi suṣṭhāne rodasī punānaḥ || 27 ||

aśvo na krado vṛṣabhir yujānaḥ siṁho na bhīmo manaso javīyān |
arvācīnaiḥ pathibhir ye rajiṣṭhā ā pavasva saumanasaṁ na indo || 28 ||

śataṁ dhārā devajātā asṛgran sahasram enāḥ kavayo mṛjanti |
indo sanitraṁ diva ā pavasva puraetāsi mahato dhanasya || 29 ||

divo na sargā asasṛgram ahnāṁ rājā na mitram pra mināti dhīraḥ |
pitur na putraḥ kratubhir yatāna ā pavasva viśe asyā ajītim || 30 ||

pra te dhārā madhumatīr asṛgran vārān yat pūto atyeṣy avyān |
pavamāna pavase dhāma gonāṁ jajñānaḥ sūryam apinvo arkaiḥ || 31 ||

kanikradad anu panthām ṛtasya śukro vi bhāsy amṛtasya dhāma |
sa indrāya pavase matsaravān hinvāno vācam matibhiḥ kavīnām || 32 ||

divyaḥ suparṇo 'va cakṣi soma pinvan dhārāḥ karmaṇā devavītau |
endo viśa kalaśaṁ somadhānaṁ krandann ihi sūryasyopa raśmim || 33 ||

tisro vāca īrayati pra vahnir ṛtasya dhītim brahmaṇo manīṣām |
gāvo yanti gopatim pṛcchamānāḥ somaṁ yanti matayo vāvaśānāḥ || 34 ||

somaṁ gāvo dhenavo vāvaśānāḥ somaṁ viprā matibhiḥ pṛcchamānāḥ |
somaḥ sutaḥ pūyate ajyamānaḥ some arkās triṣṭubhaḥ saṁ navante || 35 ||

evā naḥ soma pariṣicyamāna ā pavasva pūyamānaḥ svasti |
indram ā viśa bṛhatā raveṇa vardhayā vācaṁ janayā puraṁdhim || 36 ||

ā jāgṛvir vipra ṛtā matīnāṁ somaḥ punāno asadac camūṣu |
sapanti yam mithunāso nikāmā adhvaryavo rathirāsaḥ suhastāḥ || 37 ||

sa punāna upa sūre na dhātobhe aprā rodasī vi ṣa āvaḥ |
priyā cid yasya priyasāsa ūtī sa tū dhanaṁ kāriṇe na pra yaṁsat || 38 ||

sa vardhitā vardhanaḥ pūyamānaḥ somo mīḍhvām̐ abhi no jyotiṣāvīt |
yenā naḥ pūrve pitaraḥ padajñāḥ svarvido abhi gā adrim uṣṇan || 39 ||

akrān samudraḥ prathame vidharmañ janayan prajā bhuvanasya rājā |
vṛṣā pavitre adhi sāno avye bṛhat somo vāvṛdhe suvāna induḥ || 40 ||

mahat tat somo mahiṣaś cakārāpāṁ yad garbho 'vṛṇīta devān |
adadhād indre pavamāna ojo 'janayat sūrye jyotir induḥ || 41 ||

matsi vāyum iṣṭaye rādhase ca matsi mitrāvaruṇā pūyamānaḥ |
matsi śardho mārutam matsi devān matsi dyāvāpṛthivī deva soma || 42 ||

ṛjuḥ pavasva vṛjinasya hantāpāmīvām bādhamāno mṛdhaś ca |
abhiśrīṇan payaḥ payasābhi gonām indrasya tvaṁ tava vayaṁ sakhāyaḥ || 43 ||

madhvaḥ sūdam pavasva vasva utsaṁ vīraṁ ca na ā pavasvā bhagaṁ ca |
svadasvendrāya pavamāna indo rayiṁ ca na ā pavasvā samudrāt || 44 ||

somaḥ suto dhārayātyo na hitvā sindhur na nimnam abhi vājy akṣāḥ |
ā yoniṁ vanyam asadat punānaḥ sam indur gobhir asarat sam adbhiḥ || 45 ||

eṣa sya te pavata indra somaś camūṣu dhīra uśate tavasvān |
svarcakṣā rathiraḥ satyaśuṣmaḥ kāmo na yo devayatām asarji || 46 ||

eṣa pratnena vayasā punānas tiro varpāṁsi duhitur dadhānaḥ |
vasānaḥ śarma trivarūtham apsu hoteva yāti samaneṣu rebhan || 47 ||

nū nas tvaṁ rathiro deva soma pari srava camvoḥ pūyamānaḥ |
apsu svādiṣṭho madhumām̐ ṛtāvā devo na yaḥ savitā satyamanmā || 48 ||

abhi vāyuṁ vīty arṣā gṛṇāno3 'bhi mitrāvaruṇā pūyamānaḥ |
abhī naraṁ dhījavanaṁ ratheṣṭhām abhīndraṁ vṛṣaṇaṁ vajrabāhum || 49 ||

abhi vastrā suvasanāny arṣābhi dhenūḥ sudughāḥ pūyamānaḥ |
abhi candrā bhartave no hiraṇyābhy aśvān rathino deva soma || 50 ||

abhī no arṣa divyā vasūny abhi viśvā pārthivā pūyamānaḥ |
abhi yena draviṇam aśnavāmābhy ārṣeyaṁ jamadagnivan naḥ || 51 ||

ayā pavā pavasvainā vasūni mām̐ścatva indo sarasi pra dhanva |
bradhnaś cid atra vāto na jūtaḥ purumedhaś cit takave naraṁ dāt || 52 ||

uta na enā pavayā pavasvādhi śrute śravāyyasya tīrthe |
ṣaṣṭiṁ sahasrā naiguto vasūni vṛkṣaṁ na pakvaṁ dhūnavad raṇāya || 53 ||

mahīme asya vṛṣanāma śūṣe mām̐ścatve vā pṛśane vā vadhatre |
asvāpayan nigutaḥ snehayac cāpāmitrām̐ apācito acetaḥ || 54 ||

saṁ trī pavitrā vitatāny eṣy anv ekaṁ dhāvasi pūyamānaḥ |
asi bhago asi dātrasya dātāsi maghavā maghavadbhya indo || 55 ||

eṣa viśvavit pavate manīṣī somo viśvasya bhuvanasya rājā |
drapsām̐ īrayan vidatheṣv indur vi vāram avyaṁ samayāti yāti || 56 ||

induṁ rihanti mahiṣā adabdhāḥ pade rebhanti kavayo na gṛdhrāḥ |
hinvanti dhīrā daśabhiḥ kṣipābhiḥ sam añjate rūpam apāṁ rasena || 57 ||

tvayā vayam pavamānena soma bhare kṛtaṁ vi cinuyāma śaśvat |
tan no mitro varuṇo māmahantām aditiḥ sindhuḥ pṛthivī uta dyauḥ || 58 ||

Source Colophon

Sanskrit text of the Rigveda, Śākala recension. The standard scholarly edition is the Bombay Oriental (Vishva Bandhu, 5 vols., 1963–66). IAST transliteration available from GRETIL (Göttingen Register of Electronic Texts in Indian Languages) and Vedaweb (University of Cologne). Both sources are open access. IAST transliteration from the Aufrecht edition (1877) via GRETIL (Van Nooten & Holland input, CC BY-NC-SA 4.0).

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