Rig Veda
acodaso no dhanvantv indavaḥ pra suvānāso bṛhaddiveṣu harayaḥ vi ca naśan na iṣo arātayo 'ryo naśanta saniṣanta no dhiyaḥ
Spontaneous let our drops of Soma juice flow on, pressed, golden-hued, among the Gods of lofty heaven. Perish among us they who give no gifts of food! perish the godless! May our prayers obtain success.
pra ṇo dhanvantv indavo madacyuto dhanā vā yebhir arvato junīmasi tiro martasya kasyacit parihvṛtiṃ vayaṃ dhanāni viśvadhā bharemahi
Forward to us the drops, distilling meath, shall flow, like riches for whose sake we urge the horses on. Beyond the crafty hindering of all mortal men may we continually bear precious wealth away.
uta svasyā arātyā arir hi ṣa utānyasyā arātyā vṛko hi ṣaḥ dhanvan na tṛṣṇā sam arīta tāṁ abhi soma jahi pavamāna durādhyaḥ
Yea, verily, foe of hate shown to himself is he, yea, verity, destroyer too of other hate. As thirst subdueth in the desert, conquer thou, O Soma Pavarnana, men of evil thoughts.
divi te nābhā paramo ya ādade pṛthivyās te ruruhuḥ sānavi kṣipaḥ adrayas tvā bapsati gor adhi tvacy apsu tvā hastair duduhur manīṣiṇaḥ
Near kin to thee is he, raised loftiest in the heavens: upon the earth's high ridge thy scions have grown forth. The press-stones chew and crunch thee on the ox's hide: sages have milked thee with their hands into the streams.
evā ta indo subhvaṃ supeśasaṃ rasaṃ tuñjanti prathamā abhiśriyaḥ nidaṃ nidam pavamāna ni tāriṣa āvis te śuṣmo bhavatu priyo madaḥ
So do they hurry on thy strong and beauteous juice, O Indu, as the first ingredient of the draught. Bring low, thou Pavamana, every single foe, and be thy might shown forth as sweet and gladdening drink.