Bibliotheca Polyglotta

1 Loud neighs the Tawny Steed when started, settling deep in the wooden vessel while they cleanse him. Led by the men he takes the milk for raiment: then shall he, through his powers, engender praise-songs.

háriḥ sr̥jānáḥ pathíyām r̥tásya íyarti vā́cam aritéva nā́vam |
devó devā́nāṃ gúhiyāni nā́ma āvíṣ kr̥ṇoti barhíṣi pravā́ce ||

2 As one who rows drives on his boat, he, Gold-hued, sends forth his voice, loosed on the path of Order. As God, the secret names of Gods he utters, to be declared on sacred grass more widely.

apā́m ivéd ūrmáyas tárturāṇāḥ prá manīṣā́ īrate sómam ácha |
namasyántīr úpa ca yánti sáṃ ca ā́ ca viśanti uśatī́r uśántam ||

3 Hastening onward like the waves of waters, our holy hymns are pressing nigh to Soma. To him they come with lowly adoration, and, longing, enter him who longs to meet them.

tám marmr̥jānám mahiṣáṃ ná sā́nā aṃśúṃ duhanti ukṣáṇaṃ giriṣṭhā́m |
táṃ vāvaśānám matáyaḥ sacante tritó bibharti váruṇaṃ samudré ||

4 They drain the stalk, the Steer who dwells on mountains, even as a Bull who decks him on the upland. Hymns follow and attend him as he bellows: Trita bears Varuṇa aloft in ocean.

íṣyan vā́cam upavaktéva hótuḥ punāná indo ví ṣiyā manīṣā́m |
índraś ca yát kṣáyathaḥ saúbhagāya suvī́riyasya pátayaḥ siyāma ||

5 Sending thy voice out as Director, loosen the Invoker's thought, O Indu, as they cleanse thee. While thou and Indra rule for our advantage, may we be masters of heroic vigour.

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