एषeṣa परpra कोशेkośe मधुमानचिक्रददिन्द्रस्यmadhumānacikradadindrasya वज्रोvajro वपुषोvapuṣo वपुष्टरःvapuṣṭaraḥ |

अभींabhīṃ रतस्यṛtasya सुदुघाsudughā घर्तश्चुतोghṛtaścuto वाश्राvāśrā अर्षन्तिपयसेवarṣantipayaseva धेनवःdhenavaḥ ||
MORE beauteous than the beautiful, as Indra's bolt, this Soma, rich in sweets, hath clamoured in the vat.
Dropping with oil, abundant, streams of sacrifice flow unto him like milch-kine, lowing, with their milk.
9.77.1
सsa पूर्व्यःpūrvyaḥ पवतेpavate यंyaṃ दिवसdivas परिpari शयेनोśyeno मथायदिषितस्तिरोmathāyadiṣitastiro रजःrajaḥ |

सsa मध्वmadhva आā युवतेyuvate वेविजानvevijāna इतit कर्शानोरस्तुर्मनसाहkṛśānorasturmanasāha बिभ्युषाbibhyuṣā ||
On flows that Ancient One whom, hitherward, from heaven, sped through the region of the air, the Falcon snatched.
He, quivering with alarm and terrified in heart before bow-armed Kṛśānu, holdeth fast the sweet.
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तेte नःnaḥ पूर्वासpūrvāsa उपरासuparāsa इन्दवोindavo महेmahe वाजायvājāya धन्वन्तुdhanvantu गोमतेghomate |

ईक्षेण्यासोīkṣeṇyāso अह्योahyo नna चारवोcāravo बरह्म-बरह्मbrahma-brahma येye जुजुषुर्हविरjujuṣurhavir हविःhaviḥ ||
May those first freshest drops of Soma juice effused flow on, their way to bring us mighty strength in kine.
Beauteous as serpents, worthy to be looked upon, they whom each sacred gift and all our prayers have pleased.
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अयंayaṃ नोno विद्वानvidvān वनवदvanavad वनुष्यतvanuṣyata इन्दुःinduḥ सत्राचाsatrācā मनसाmanasā पुरुष्टुतःpuruṣṭutaḥ |

इनस्यinasya यःyaḥ सदनेsadane गर्भमादधेgharbhamādadhe गवामुरुब्जमभ्यर्षतिghavāmurubjamabhyarṣati वरजमvrajam ||
May that much-lauded Indu, with a heart inclined to us, well-knowing, fight against our enemies.
He who hath brought the germ beside the Strong One's seat moves onward to the widely-opcned stall of kine.
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चक्रिर्दिवःcakrirdivaḥ पवतेpavate कर्त्व्योkṛtvyo रसोraso महानदब्धोmahānadabdho वरुणोvaruṇo हुरुग्यतेhurughyate |

असाविasāvi मित्रोmitro वर्जनेषुvṛjaneṣu यज्ञियो.अत्योyajñiyo.atyo नna यूथेyūthe वर्षयुःvṛṣayuḥ कनिक्रदतkanikradat ||
The active potent juice of heaven is flowing on, great Varuṇa whom the forward man can ne’er deceive.
Mitra, the Holy, hath been pressed for troubled times, neighing like an impatient horse amid the herd,
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