This Soma is a god. He curses the sharpest ills that man endures. He heals the sick, the sad he cheers, he nerves the weak, despels their fears. The faint with martial ardour fires, with lofty thought the bard inspires. The soul from earth to heaven he lifts, so great and wondrous are his gifts.
Men feel the god within their veins, and cry in loud exalting strains.
We quaffed the Soma bright and are immortal grown, we've entered into light, and all the gods have known. Through thee, beyond alarm, immortal god we soar.