As if plucked forth the dry one goes; he brightens the sun’s hue. He casts off the poisonous father and, having purified, makes the covering: the pair of waters.

The powerful (Soma) advances with a roar like a slayer of men; he puts forth that asura-slaying tint of his; he abandons bodily infirmity; the food goes to the prepared (altar); he assumes a form advancing to the outstretched (filter).

Strong, bellowing, he goes, like one who slays the folk; he lets this hue of Asuras flow off from him, Throws off his covering, seeks his father's meeting-place, and thus makes for himself the bright robe he assumes.