Peace is the answer  
English translation of
Holy Vedas - Rig Veda

English translation by Ralph T.H. Griffith
taken from

Book 09 Part 06

HYMN XCVII. Soma Pavamana

MADE pure by this man's urgent zeal and impulse the God hath to the Gods his juice imparted. He goes, effused and singing, to the filter, like priest to measured seats supplied with cattle.

Robed in fair raiment meet to wear in battle, a mighty Sage pronouncing invocations. Roll onward to the beakers as they cleanse thee, far-seeing at the feast of Gods, and watchful.

Dear, he is brightened on the fleecy summit, a Prince among us, nobler than the noble. Roar out as thou art purified, run forward. Do ye preserve us evermore with blessings.

Let us sing praises to the Gods: sing loudly, send ye the Soma forth for mighty riches. Let him flow, sweetly-flavoured, through the filter, and let our pious one rest in the pitcher.

Winning the friendship of the Deities, Indu flows in a thousand streams to make them joyful. Praised by the men after the ancient statute, he hath come nigh, for our great bliss, to Indra.

Flow, Gold-hued, cleansing thee, to enrich the singer: let thy juice go to Indra to support him. Come nigh, together with the Gods, for bounty. Do ye preserve us evermore with blessings.

The God declares the Deities' generations, like Usana, proclaiming lofty wisdom. With brilliant kin, far-ruling, sanctifying, the Boar advances, singing, to the places.

The Swans, the Vrsaganas from anear us have brought their restless spirit to our dwelling. Friends come to Pavamana meet for praises, and sound in concert their resistless music.

He follows the Wide-strider's rapid movement: cows low, as 'twere, to him who sports at pleasure. He with the sharpened horns brings forth abundance: the Silvery shines by night, by day the Golden.

Strong Indu, bathed in milk, flows on for Indra, Soma exciting strength, to make him joyful. He quells malignities and slays the demons, the King of mighty power who brings us comfort.

Then in a stream he flows, milked out with press-stones, mingled with sweetness, through the fleecy filter- Indu rejoicing in the love of Indra, the God who gladdens, for the God's enjoyment.

As he is purified he pours out treasures, a God bedewing Gods with his own juices. Indu hath, wearing qualities by seasons, on the raised fleece engaged, the ten swift fingers.

The Red Bull bellowing to the kine advances, causing the heavens and earth to roar and thunder. Well is he beard like Indra's shout in battle: letting this voice be known he hastens hither.

Swelling with milk, abounding in sweet flavours, urging the meath-rich plant thou goest onward. Raising a shout thou flowest as they cleanse thee, when thou, O Soma, art effused for Indra.

So flow thou on inspiriting, for rapture, aiming death-shafts at him who stays the waters, Flow to us wearing thy resplendent colour, effused and eager for the kine, O Soma.

Pleased with us, Indu, send us as thou flowest good easy paths in ample space and comforts. Dispelling, as 'twere with a club, misfortunes, run o'er the height, run o'er the fleecy summit.

Pour on us rain celestial, quickly streaming, refreshing, fraught with health and ready bounty. Flow, Indu, send these Winds thy lower kinsmen, setting them free like locks of hair unbraided.

Part, like a knotted tangle, while they cleanse thee, O Soma, righteous and unrighteous conduct. Neigh like a tawny courser who is loosened, come like a youth, O God, a house-possessor.

For the God's service, for delight, O Indu, run o'er the height, run over the fleecy summit. With thousand streams, inviolate, sweet-scented, flow on for gain of strength that conquers heroes.

Without a car, without a rein to guide them, unyoked, like coursers started in the contest, These brilliant drops of Soma juice run forward. Do ye, O Deities, come nigh to drink them.

So for our banquet of the Gods, O Indu, pour down the rain of heaven into the vessels. May Soma grant us riches sought with longing, mighty, exceeding strong, with store of heroes.

What time the loving spirit's word had formed him Chief of all food, by statute of the Highest, Then loudly lowing came the cows to Indu, the chosen, well-loved Master in the beaker.

The Sage, Celestial, liberal, raining bounties, pours as he flows the Genuine for the Truthful. The King shall be effectual strength's upholder: he by the ten bright reins is mostly guided.

He who beholds mankind, made pure with filters, the King supreme of Deities and mortals, From days of old is Treasure-Lord of riches: he, Indu, cherishes fair well-kept Order.

Haste, like a steed, to victory for glory, to Indra's and to Vayu's entertainment. Give us food ample, thousandfold: be, Soma, the finder-out of riches when they cleanse thee.

Effused by us let God-delighting Somas bring as they flow a home with noble heroes. Rich in all boons like priests acquiring favour, the worshippers of heaven, the best of Cheerers.

So, God, for service of the Gods flow onward, flow, drink of Gods, for ample food, O Soma. For we go forth to war against the mighty make heaven and earth well stablished by thy cleansing.

Thou, yoked by strong men, neighest like a courser, swifter than thought is, like an awful lion. By paths directed hitherward, the straightest, send thou us happiness, Indu, while they cleanse thee.

Sprung from the Gods, a hundred streams, a thousand, have been effused: sages prepare and purge them. Bring us from heaven the means of winning, Indu; thou art-forerunnner of abundant riches.

The streams of days, were poured as 'twere from heaven: the wise King doth not treat his friend unkindly. Like a son following his father's wishes, grant to this family success and safety.

Now are thy streams poured forth with all their sweetness, when, purified. thou goest through the filter. The race of kine is thy gift, Pavarridna: when born thou madest Surya rich with brightness.

Bright, bellowing along the path of Order, thou shinest as the form of life eternal. Thou flowest on as gladdening drink for Indra, sending thy voice out with the hymns of sages.

Pouring out streams at the Gods' feast with service, thou, Soma, lookest down, a heavenly Eagle. Enter the Soma-holding beaker, Indu, and with a roar approach the ray of Sarya.

Three are the voices that the Courser utters: he speaks the thought of prayer, the law of Order. To the Cow's Master come the Cows inquiring: the hymns with eager longing come to Soma.

To Soma come the Cows, the Milch-kine longing, to Soma sages with their hymns inquiring. Soma, effused, is purified and blended our hymns and Trstup songs unite in Soma.

Thus, Soma, as we pour thee into vessels, while thou art purified flow for our welfare. Pass into Indra with a mighty roaring make the voice swell, and generate abundance.

Singer of true songs, ever-watchful, Soma hath settled in the ladles when they cleanse him. Him the Adhvaryus, paired and eager, follow, leaders of sacrifice and skilful-handed.

Cleansed near the Sun as 'twere he as Creator hath filled full heaven and earth, and hath disclosed them. He by whose dear help men gain all their wishes shall yield the precious meed as to a victor.

He, being cleansed, the Strengthener and Increaser, Soma the Bounteous, helped us with his lustre, Wherewith our sires of old who knew the footsteps found light and stole the cattle from the mountain.

In the first vault of heaven loud roared the Ocean, King of all being, generating creatures. Steer, in the filter, on the fleecy summit, Soma, the Drop effused, hath waxen mighty.

Soma the Steer, in that as Child of Waters he chose the Gods, performed that great achievement. He, Pavamana, granted strength to Indra; he, Indu, generated light in Surya.

Make Vayu glad,, for furtherance and bounty: cheer Varuna and Mitra, as they cleanse thee. Gladden the Gods, gladden the host of Maruts: make Heaven and Earth rejoice, O God, O Soma.

Flow onward righteous slayer of the wicked, driving away our enemies and sickness, Blending thy milk with milk which cows afford us. We are thy friends, thou art the Friend of Indra.

Pour us a fount of meath, a spring of treasure; send us a hero son and happy fortune. Be sweet to India when they cleanse thee, Indu, and pour down riches on us from the ocean.


Strong Soma, pressed, like an impetuous courser, hath flowed in stream as a flood speeding downward. Cleansed, he hath settled in his wooden dwelling: Indu hath flowed with milk and with the waters.

Strong, wise, for thee who longest for his coming this Soma here flows to the bowls, O Indra. He, chariot-borne, sun-bright, and truly potent, was poured forth like the longing of the pious.

He, purified with ancient vital vigour, pervading all his Daughter's forms and figures, Finding his threefold refuge in the waters, goes singing, as a priest, to the assemblies.

Now, chariot-borne, flow unto us, God Soma, as thou art purified flow to the saucers, Sweetest in waters, rich in meath, and holy, as Savitar the God is, truthfulminded.

To feast him, flow mid song and hymn, to Vayu, flow purified to Varuna and Mitra. Flow to the song-inspiring car-borne Hero, to mighty Indra, him who wields the thunder.

Pour on us garments that shall clothe us meetly, send, purified, milch-kine, abundant yielders. God Soma, send us chariot-drawing horses that they may bring us treasures bright and golden.

Send to us in a stream celestial riches, send us, when thou art cleansed, what earth containeth, So that thereby we may acquire possessions and Rsihood in Jamadagni's manner.

Pour forth this wealth with this purification: flow onward to the yellow lake, O Indu. Here, too, the Ruddy, wind-swift, full of wisdom, Shall give a son to him who cometh quickly.

Flow on for us with this purification to the famed ford of thee whose due is glory. May the Foe-queller shake us down, for triumph, like a tree's ripe fruit, sixty thousand treasures.

Eagerly do we pray for those two exploits, at the blue lake and Prsana, wrought in battle. He sent our enemies to sleep and slew them, and turned away the foolish and unfriendly.

Thou comest unto three extended filters, and hasteriest [sic] through each one as they cleanse thee. Thou art the giver of the gift, a Bhaga, a Maghavan for liberal lords, O Indu.

This Soma here, the Wise, the All-obtainer, flows on his way as King of all existence. Driving the drops at our assemblies, Indu completely traverses the fleecy filter.

The Great Inviolate are kissing Indu, and singing in his place like eager sages. The wise men send him forth with ten swift fingers, and balm his form with essence of the waters.

Soma, may we, with thee as Pavamana, pile up together all our spoil in battle. This boon vouchsafe us Varuna and Mitra, and Aditi and Sindhu, Earth and Heaven.

HYMN XCVIII. Soma Pavamana

STREAM on us riches that are sought by many, best at winning strength Riches, O Indu, thousandfold, glorious, conquering the great.

Effused, he hath, as on a car, invested him in fleecy mail: Onward hath Indu flowed in streams, impelled, surrounded by the wood.

Effused, this Indu hath flowed on, distilling rapture, to the fleece: He goes erect, as seeking kine in stream, with light, to sacrifice.

For thou thyself, O Indu, God, to every mortal worshipper Attractest riches thousandfold, made manifest in hundred forms.

Good Vrtra-slayer, may we be still nearest to this wealth of thine Which many crave, nearest to food and happiness, Resistless One!

Whom, bright with native splendour, crushed between the pair of pressingstones- The wavy Friend whom Indra loves-the twice-five sisters dip and bathe,

Him with the fleece they purify, brown, golden-hued, beloved of all, Who with exhilarating juice goes forth to all the Deities.

Through longing for this sap of yours ye drink what brings ability, Even him who, dear as heaven's own light, gives to our princes high renown.

Indu at holy rites produced you, Heaven and Earth, the Friends of men, Hill-haunting God the Goddesses. They bruised him where the roar was loud.

For Vrtra-slaying Indra, thou, Soma, art poured that he may drink, Poured for the guerdon-giving man, poured for the God who sitteth there.

These ancient Somas, at the break of day, have flowed into the sieve, Snorting away at early morn these foolish evil-hearted ones.

Friends, may the princes, ye and we, obtain this Most Resplendent One. Gain him who hath the smell of strength, win him whose home is very strength.

HYMN XCIX. Soma Pavamana.

THEY for the Bold and Lovely One ply manly vigour like a bow: joyous, in front of songs they weave bright raiment for the Lord Divine.

And he, made beautiful by night, dips forward into strengthening food', What time the sacrificer's thoughts speed on his way the Golden-hued.

We cleanse this gladdening drink of his the juice which Indra chiefly drinks--- That which kine took into their mouths, of old, and princes take it now.

To him, while purifying, they have raised the ancient psalm of praise: And sacred songs which bear the names of Gods have supplicated him.

They purify him as he drops, courageous, in the fleecy sieve. Him they instruct as messenger to bear the sage's morning prayer.

Soma, best Cheerer, takes his seat, the while they cleanse him in the bowls. He as it were impregns the cow, and babbles on, the Lord of Song.

He is effused and beautified, a God for Gods, by skilful men. He penetrates the mighty floods collecting all he knows therein.

Pressed, Indu, guided by the men, thou art led to the cleaning sieve. Thou, yielding Indra highest joy, takest thy seat within the bowls.

HYMN C. Soma Pavamana.

I. THE Guileless Ones are singing praise to Indra's well beloved Friend, As, in the morning of its life, the mothers lick the new-born calf.

O Indu, while they cleanse thee bring, O Soma, doubly-waxing wealth Thou in the worshipper's abode causest all treasures to increase.

Set free the. song which mind hath yoked, even as thunder frees the rain: All treasures of the earth and heaven, O Soma, thou dost multiply.

Thy stream when thou art pressed runs on like some victorious warrior's steed Hastening onward through the fleece like a fierce horse who wins the prize.

Flow on, Sage Soma, with thy stream to give us mental power and strength, Effused for Indra, for his drink, for Mitra and for Varuna.

Flow to the filter with thy stream, effused, best winner, thou, of spoil, O Soma, as most rich in sweets for Indra, Visnu, and the Gods.

The mothers, void of guiles, caress thee Golden-coloured, in the sieve, As cows, O Pavamana, lick the new-born calf, as Law commands.

Thou, Pavamana, movest on with wondrous rays to great renown. Striving within the votary's house thou drivest all the glooms away.

Lord of great sway, thou liftest thee above the heavens, above the earth. Thou, Pavamana hast assumed thy coat of mail in majesty.

HYMN CI. Soma Pavamana

FOR first possession of your juice, for the exhilarating drink, Drive ye away the dog, my friends, drive ye the long-tongued dog away.

He who with purifying stream, effused, comes flowing hitherward, Indu, is like an able steed.

The men with all-pervading song send unassailable Soma forth, By pressing-stones, to sacrifice.

The Somas, very rich in sweets, for which the sieve is destined, flow, Effused, the source of Indra's joy: may your strong juices reach the Gods.

Indu flows on for Indra's sake: thus have the Deities declared. The Lord of Speech exerts himself, Ruler of all, because of might.

Inciter of the voice of song, with thousand streams the ocean flows, Even Soma, Lord of opulence, the Friend of Indra, day by day.

As Pusan, Fortune, Bhaga, comes this Soma while they make him pure. He, Lord of the multitude, hath looked upon the earth and heaven.

The dear cows lowed in joyful mood together to the gladdening drink. The drops as they were purified, the Soma juices, made then paths.

O Pavamana, bring the juice, the mightiest, worthy to be famed, Which the Five Tribes have over them, whereby we may win opulence.

For us the Soma juices flow, the drops best furtherers of our weal, Effused as friends without a spot, benevolent, finders of the light.

Effused by means of pressing-stones, upon the ox-hide visible, They, treasure-finders, have announced food unto us from every side.

These Soma juices, skilled in song, purified, blent with milk and curd, When moving and when firmly laid in oil, resemble lovely Suns.

Let not the power of men restrain the voice of the outpouring juice: As Bhrgu's sons chased Makha, so drive ye the greedy hound away.

The Friend hath wrapped him in his robe, as in his parents arms, a son. He went, as lover to a dame, to take his station suitor-like.

That Hero who produces strength, he who hath propped both worlds apart, Gold-hued, hath wrapped him in the sieve, to settle, priest-like, in his place.

Soma upon the ox's skin through the sheep's wool flows purified. Bellowing out, the Tawny Steer goes on to Indra's special place.

HYMN CIL Soma Pavamana.

THE Child, when blended with the streams, speeding the plan of sacrifice, Surpasses all things that are dear, yea, from of old.

The place, near the two pressing-stones of Trita, hath he occupied, Secret and dear through seven lights of sacrifice.

Urge to three courses, on the heights of Trita, riches in a stream. He who is passing wise measures his courses out.

Even at his birth the Mothers Seven taught him, for glory, like a sage, So that he, firm and sure, hath set his mind on wealth.

Under his sway, of one accord, are all the guileless Deities: Warriors to be envied, they, when they are pleased.

The Babe whom they who strengthen Law have generated fair to see, Much longed for at the sacrifice, most liberal Sage,-

To him, united, of themselves, come the young Parents of the rite, When they adorn him, duly weaving sacrifice.

With wisdom and with radiant eyes unbar to us the stall of heaven, Speeding at solemn rite the plan of Holy Law.

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-- Book 09 Part 06 --

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