The Rig Veda/Mandala 9/Hymn 38

1. THIS Steer, this Chariot, rushes through the woolen filter, as he goes
     To war that wins a thousand spoils.
2. The Dames of Trita with the stones onward impel this Tawny One
     Indu to Indra for his drink.
3. Ten active fingers carefully adorn him here; they make him bright
     And beauteous for the gladdening draught.
4. He like a falcon settles down amid the families of men.
     Speeding like lover to his love.
5. This young exhilarating juice looks downward from its place in heaven,
     This Soma-drop that pierced the sieve.
6. Poured for the draught, this tawny juice flows forth, intelligent, crying out,
     Unto the well-beloved place.