Hymn 76

आ व रञ्जस ऊर्जां वयुष्टिष्विन्द्रं मरुतो रोदसीनक्तन |
उभे यथा नो अहनी सचाभुवा सदः-सदोवरिवस्यात उद्भिदा ||
तदु शरेष्ठं सवनं सुनोतनातयो न हस्तयतो अद्रिःसोतरि |
विदद धयर्यो अभिभूति पौंस्यं महो राये चित्तरुते यदर्वतः ||
तदिद धयस्य सवनं विवेरपो यथा पुरा मनवेगातुमश्रेत |
गोर्णसि तवाष्ट्रे अश्वनिर्णिजि परेमध्वरेष्वध्वरानशिश्रयुः ||
अप हत रक्षसो भङगुरावत सकभायत निरतिंसेधतामतिम |
आ नो रयिं सर्ववीरं सुनोतन देवाव्यम्भरत शलोकमद्रयः ||
दिवश्चिदा वो.अमवत्तरेभ्यो विभ्वना चिदाश्वपस्तरेभ्यः |
वायोश्चिद सोमरभस्तरेभ्यो.अग्नेश्चिदर्चपितुक्र्त्तरेभ्यः ||
भुरन्तु नो यशसः सोत्वन्धसो गरावाणो वाचा दिवितादिवित्मता |
नरो यत्र दुहते काम्यं मध्वाघोषयन्तोभितो मिथस्तुरः ||
सुन्वन्ति सोमं रथिरासो अद्रयो निरस्य रसं गविषोदुहन्ति ते |
दुहन्त्यूधरुपसेचनाय कं नरो हव्य नामर्जयन्त आसभिः ||
एते नरः सवपसो अभूतन य इन्द्राय सुनुथ सोममद्रयः |
वामं-वामं वो दिव्याय धाम्ने वसु-वसु वः पार्थिवयसुन्वते ||

1. I GRASP at you when power and strength begin to dawn: bedew ye, Indra and the Maruts, Heaven and Earth,

     That Day and Night, in every hall of sacrifice, may wait on us and bless us when they first spring forth.

2. Press the libation out, most excellent of all: the Pressing-stone is grasped like a hand-guided steed.

     So let it win the valour that subdues the foe, and the fleet courser's might that speeds to ample wealth.

3. Juice that this Stone pours out removes defect of ours, as in old time it brought prosperity to man.

     At sacrifices they established holy rites on Tvastar's milk-blent juice bright with the hue of steeds.

4. Drive ye the treacherous demons far away from us: keep Nirrti afar and banish Penury.

     Pour riches forth for us with troops of hero sons, and bear ye up, O Stones, the song that visits Gods.

5. To you who are more mighty than the heavens themselves, who, finishing your task with more than Vibhvan's speed,

     More rapidly than Vayu seize the Soma juice, better than Agni give us food, to you I sing.

6. Stirred be the glorious Stones: let it press out the juice, the Stone with heavenly song that reaches up to heaven,

     There where the men draw forth the meath for which they long, sending their voice around in rivalry of speed.

7. The Stones press out the Soma, swift as car-borne men, and, eager for the spoil, drain forth the sap thereof

     To fill the beaker, they exhaust the udder's store, as the men purify oblations with their lips.

8. Ye, present men, have been most skillful in your work, even ye, O Stones who pressed Soma for Indra's drink.

     May all ye have of fair go to the Heavenly Race, and all your treasure to the earthly worshipper.