Rig Veda 10.119: THIS, even this was my resolve, to win a cow, to win a steed

THIS, even this was my resolve, to win a cow, to win a steed:
Have I not drunk of Soma juice?

Like violent gusts of wind the draughts that I have drunk have lifted me
Have I not drunk of Soma juice?

The draughts I drank have borne me up, as fleet-foot horses draw a car:
Have I not drunk of Soma juice?

The hymn hath reached me, like a cow who lows to meet her darling calf:
Have I not drunk of Soma juice?

As a wright bends a chariot-seat so round my heart I bend the hymn:
Have I not drunk of Soma juice?

Not as a mote within the eye count the Five Tribes of men with me:
Have I not drunk of Soma juice?

The heavens and earth themselves have not grown equal to one half of me
Have I not drunk of Soma juice?

I in my grandeur have surpassed the heavens and all this spacious earth
Have I not drunk of Soma juice?

Aha! this spacious earth will I deposit either here or there
Have I not drunk of Soma juice?

In one short moment will I smite the earth in fury here or there:
Have I not drunk of Soma juice?

One of my flanks is in the sky; I let the other trail below:
Have I not drunk of Soma juice?

1, greatest of the Mighty Ones, am lifted to the firmament:
Have I not drunk of Soma juice?

I seek the worshipper's abode; oblation-bearer to the Gods:
Have I not drunk of Soma juice?