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HYMN LXXXII. Soma Pavamana.

1. EVEN as a King hath Soma, red and tawny Bull, been pressed: the Wondrous One hath bellowed to the kine.
While purified he passes through the filtering fleece to seat him hawk-like on the place that drops with oil.
2. To glory goest thou, Sage with disposing skill, like a groomed steed thou rusbest forward to the prize.
O Soma, be thou gracious, driving off distress: thou goest, clothed in butter, to a robe of state.
3 Parjanya is the Father of the Mighty Bird: on mountains, in earth's centre hath he made his home.
The waters too have flowed, the Sisters, to the kine: he meets the pressing-stones at the beloved rite.
4 Thou givest pleasure as a wife delights her lord. Listen, O Child of Pajri, for to thee I speak.
Amid the holy songs go on that we may live: in time of trouble, Soma, watch thou free from blame.
5 As to the men of old thou camest, Indu unharmed, to strengthen, winning hundreds, thousands,
So now for new felicity flow onward: the waters follow as thy law ordaineth.

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