Sukta 37

सं भानुना यतते सूर्यस्याजुह्वानो घृतपृष्ठः स्वञ्चाः। तस्मा अमृध्रा उषसो व्युच्छान्य इन्द्राय सुनवामेत्याह॥

saṁ bhānunā yatate sūryasyājuhvāno ghṛtapṛṣṭhaḥ svañcāḥ | tasmā amṛdhrā uṣaso vyucchānya indrāya sunavāmetyāha ||

BEDEWED with holy oil and meetly worshipped, the Swift One vies with Surya's beam in splendour. For him may mornings dawn without cessation who saith, Let us press Soma out for Indra.

समिद्धाग्निर्वनवत्स्तीर्णबर्हिर्युक्तग्रावा सुतसोमो जराते। ग्रावाणो यस्येषिरं वदन्त्ययदध्वर्युर्हविषाव सिन्धुम्॥

samiddhāgnirvanavatstīrṇabarhiryuktagrāvā sutasomo jarāte | grāvāṇo yasyeṣiraṁ vadantyayadadhvaryurhaviṣāva sindhum ||

With kindled fire and strewn grass let him worship, and, Soma-presser, sing with stones adjusted: And let the priest whose press-stones ring forth loudly, go down with his oblation to the river.

वधूरियं पतिमिच्छन्त्येति य ईं वहाते महिषीमिषिराम्। आस्य श्रवस्याद्रथ आ च घोषात्पुरू सहस्रा परि वर्तयाते॥

vadhūriyaṁ patimicchantyeti ya īṁ vahāte mahiṣīmiṣirām | āsya śravasyādratha ā ca ghoṣātpurū sahasrā pari vartayāte ||

This wife is coming near who loves her husband who carries to his home a vigorous consort. Here may his car seek fame, here loudly thunder, and his wheel make a thousand revolutions.

न स राजा व्यथते यस्मिन्निन्द्रस्तीव्रं सोमं पिबति गोसखायम्। आ सत्वनैरजति हन्ति वृत्रं क्षेति क्षितीः सुभगो नाम पुष्यन्॥

na sa rājā vyathate yasminnindrastīvraṁ somaṁ pibati gosakhāyam | ā satvanairajati hanti vṛtraṁ kṣeti kṣitīḥ subhago nāma puṣyan ||

No troubles vex that King in whose home Indra drinks the sharp Soma juice with milk commingled. With heroes he drives near, he slays the foeman: Blest, cherishing that name, he guards his people.

पुष्यात्क्षेमे अभि योगे भवात्युभे वृतौ संयती सं जयाति। प्रियः सूर्ये प्रियो अग्ना भवाति य इन्द्राय सुतसोमो ददाशत्॥

puṣyātkṣeme abhi yoge bhavātyubhe vṛtau saṁyatī saṁ jayāti | priyaḥ sūrye priyo agnā bhavāti ya indrāya sutasomo dadāśat ||

May he support in peace and win in battle: he masters both the hosts that meet together. Dear shall he be to Surya, dear to Agni, who with pressed Soma offers gifts to India.