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Samavedas – 01 Book 06 Chapter 01, DECADE III Soma Pavamana

Cleansing thee, Soma, in thy stream, thou flowest in a watery robe:
giver of wealth, thou sittest in the place of Law, O God,
a fountain made of gold.

Hence sprinkle forth the juice effused, Soma, the best of sacred gifts,
who, friend of man, hath run amid the water-streams!
He hath pressed Soma out with stones.

 Expressed by stones, O Soma, and urged through the long wool of the sheep,
thou, entering the press-boards even as men a fort, gold-hued
hast settled in the vats.

O Soma,--for the feast of Gods, river-like he hath swelled with surge,
sweet with the liquor of the stalk, as one who wakes,
into the vat that drops with meath.

Pressed out by pressers, Soma goes over the fleecy backs of sheep, goes,
even as with a mare, in tawny-coloured stream,
goes in a sweetly-sounding stream.

O Soma, lndu, every day thy friendship hath been my delight.
Many fiends follow me; help me, thou tawny-hued:
pass on beyond these barriers !

Deft-handed! thou when purified liftest thy voice amid the sea.
Thou, Pavamana, makest riches flow to us,
yellow, abundant, much desired.

The living drops of Soma juice pour, as they flow, the gladdening drink,
intelligent drops above the station of the sea,
exhilarating, dropping meath.

Soma, while thou art cleansed, most dear and watchful in the sheep's long wool,
most like to Angiras! thou hast become a sage.
Sprinkle our sacrifice with mead !

Soma, the gladdening juice, flows pressed for Indra with his Marut host:
he hastens o'er the fleece with all his thousand streams:
him, him the men make pure and bright.

Flow on, best winner of the spoil, to precious gifts of every sort!
Thou art a sea according to the highest law, joy-giver,
Soma ! to the Gods

Over the cleansing sieve have flowed the Pavamanas in a stream,
girt by the Maruts, gladdening, steeds with Indra's strength,
for wisdom and for dainty food.