Bibliotheca Polyglotta

1 In the great synod will I laud thy two Bay Steeds: I prize the sweet strong drink of thee the Warrior-God, His who pours lovely oil as ’twere with yellow drops. Let my songs enter thee whose form hath golden tints.

háriṃ hí yónim abhí yé samásvaran hinvánto hárī diviyáṃ yáthā sádaḥ |
ā́ yám pr̥ṇánti háribhir ná dhenáva índrāya śūṣáṃ hárivantam arcata ||

2 Ye who in concert sing unto the goldhued place, like Bay Steeds driving onward to the heavenly seat, For Indra laud ye strength allied with Tawny Steeds, laud him whom cows content as ’twere with yellow drops.

só asya vájro hárito yá āyasó hárir níkāmo hárir ā́ gábhastiyoḥ |
dyumnī́ suśipró hárimanyusāyaka índre ní rūpā́ háritā mimikṣire ||

3 His is that thunderbolt, of iron, goldenhued, gold-coloured, very dear, and yellow in his arms; Bright with strong teeth, destroying with its tawny rage. In Indra are set fast all forms of golden hue.

diví ná ketúr ádhi dhāyi haryató vivyácad vájro hárito ná ráṃhiyā |
tudád áhiṃ háriśipro yá āyasáḥ sahásraśokā abhavad dharimbharáḥ ||

4 As if a lovely ray were laid upon the sky, the golden thunderbolt spread out as in a race. That iron bolt with yellow jaw smote Ahi down. A thousand flames had he who bore the tawny-hued.

tuváṃ-tuvam aharyathā úpastutaḥ pū́rvebhir indra harikeśa yájvabhiḥ |
tuváṃ haryasi táva víśvam ukthíyam ásāmi rā́dho harijāta haryatám ||

5 Thou, thou, when praised by men who sacrificed of old. hadst pleasure in their lauds, O Indra golden-haired. All that befits thy song of praise thou welcornest, the perfect pleasant gift, O Golden-hued from birth.

tā́ vajríṇam mandínaṃ stómiyam máda índraṃ ráthe vahato haryatā́ hárī |
purū́ṇi asmai sávanāni háryata índrāya sómā hárayo dadhanvire ||

6 These two dear Bays bring hither Indra on his car, Thunder-armed, joyous, meet for laud, to drink his fill. Many libations flow for him who loveth them: to Indra have the gold-hued Soma juices run.

áraṃ kā́māya hárayo dadhanvire sthirā́ya hinvan hárayo hárī turā́ |
árvadbhir yó háribhir jóṣam ī́yate só asya kā́maṃ hárivantam ānaśe ||

7 Tle gold-hued drops have flowed to gratify his wish: the yellow dro s have urged the swift Bays to the Strong. He who speeds on with Bay Steeds even as he lists hath satisfied his longing for the golden drops.

háriśmaśārur hárikeśa āyasás turaspéye yó haripā́ ávardhata |
árvadbhir yó háribhir vājínīvasur áti víśvā duritā́ pā́riṣad dhárī ||

8 At the swift draught the Soma-drinker waxed in might, the Iron One with yellow beard and yellow hair. He, Lord of Tawny Coursers, Lord of fleet-foot Mares, will bear his Bay Steeds safely over all distress.

srúveva yásya háriṇī vipetátuḥ śípre vā́jāya háriṇī dávidhvataḥ |
prá yát kr̥té camasé mármr̥jad dhárī pītvā́ mádasya haryatásya ándhasaḥ ||

9 His yellow-coloured jaws, like ladles move apart, what time, for strength, he makes the yellow-tinted stir, When, while the bowl stands there, he grooms his Tawny Steeds, when he hath drunk strong drink, the sweet juice that he loves.

utá sma sádma haryatásya pastíyor átyo ná vā́jaṃ hárivām̐ acikradat |
mahī́ cid dhí dhiṣáṇā́haryad ójasā br̥hád váyo dadhiṣe haryatáś cid ā́ ||

10 Yea, to the Dear One's seat in homes of heaven and earth the Bay Steeds' Lord hath whinnied like a horse for food. Then the great wish hath seized upon him mightily, and the Beloved One hath gained high power of life,

ā́ ródasī háryamāṇo mahitvā́ návyaṃ-navyaṃ haryasi mánma nú priyám |
prá pastíyam asura haryatáṃ gór āvíṣ kr̥dhi háraye sū́riyāya ||

11 Thou, comprehending with thy might the earth and heaven, acceptest the dear hymn for ever new and new. O Asura, disclose thou and make visible the Cow's beloved home to the bright golden Sun.

ā́ tvā haryántam prayújo jánānāṃ ráthe vahantu háriśipram indra |
píbā yáthā prátibhr̥tasya mádhvo háryan yajñáṃ sadhamā́de dáśoṇim ||

12 O Indra, let the eager wishes of the folk bring thee, delightful, golden-visored, on thy car, That, pleased with sacrifice wherein ten fingers toil, thou mayest, at the feast, drink of our offered meath.

ápāḥ pū́rveṣāṃ harivaḥ sutā́nām átho idáṃ sávanaṃ kévalaṃ te |
mamaddhí sómam mádhumantam indra satrā́ vr̥ṣañ jaṭhára ā́ vr̥ṣasva ||

13 Juices aforetime, Lord of Bays, thou drankest; and thine especially is this libation. Gladden thee, Indra, with the meath-rich Soma: pour it down ever, Mighty One! within thee.

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