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THE SAMA VEDA<br />
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XI Soma Pavamana<br />
1. A Red Bull bellowing to the kine, thou goest, causing the heavens and earth to roar and thunder.<br />
A shout is heard like Indra's in the battle: thou flowest on, sending this voice before thee.<br />
2. Swelling with milk, abounding in sweet juices, urging the meathrich plant thou goest onward.<br />
Making loud clamour, Soma Pavamana, thou flowest when thou art effused for Indra.<br />
3. So flow thou on inspiriting, for rapture, turning the weapon of the water's holder!<br />
Flow to us wearing thy resplendent colour, effused and eager for the kine. O Soma!<br />
XII Indra<br />
1. That we may win us wealth and power we poets verily, call on thee:<br />
In war men call on thee, Indra, the hero's Lord, in the steed's race-course call on thee<br />
2. As such, O wonderful, whose hand holds thunder, praised as mighty, Caster of the Stone!<br />
Pour on us boldly, Indra, kine and chariot-steeds, ever to be the conqueror's strength!<br />
XIII Indra<br />
1. To you will I sing Indra's praise who gives good gifts, as we I we know;<br />
The praise of Maghavan who, rich in treasure, aids his singers with wealth thousandfold.<br />
2. As with a hundred hosts, he rushes boldly on, and for the offerer slays his foes.<br />
As from a mountain fiow the water-brooks, thus flow his gifts who feedeth many a one.<br />
XIV Indra<br />
1. O Thunderer, zealous worshippers gave thee drink this time yesterday:<br />
So, Indra, listen here to him who offers lauds: come near unto our dwelling-place!<br />
2. Lord of bay steeds, fair-helmed, rejoice thee: thee we seek. Here the disposers wait on thee.<br />
Thy glories, meet for praise! are highest by the juice, O Indra, lover of the song.<br />
XV Soma Pavamana<br />
1. Flow onward with that juice of thine most excellent, that brings delight,<br />
Slaying the wicked, dear to Gods!<br />
2. Killing the foeman and his hate, and daily winning spoil and strength,<br />
Gainer art thou of steeds and kine.<br />
3. Red-hued, be blended with the milk that seems to yield its lovely breast,<br />
Falcon-like resting in thine home!<br />
XVI Soma Pavamana<br />
1. As Pashan, Fortune, Bhaga, comes this Soma while they make him pure.<br />
He, Lord of all the multitude, hath looked upon the earth and heaven.<br />
2. The dear cows sang in joyful mood together to the gladdening drink.<br />
The drops as they are purified, the Soma juices, make the paths.<br />
3. O Pavamana, bring the juice, the mightiest, worthy to be famed,<br />
Which the Five Tribes have over them, whereby we may win opulence!<br />
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