Indra, you who bring near the service of the gods, swift and noble, bring us close for our help, may it be strong. Hear this speech of orderers, like orderers, as you are blameless and active.
Hear, Indra, called upon in every battle, for the cries of war and warriors, for victory. He who wins light with heroes, who gains the prize with singers, May the rich seek him as a swift, strong steed, as a fleet and strong courser.
You, Mighty One, pour forth the rain-receiving hide, keep the wicked far away, Hero, from the wicked. I sing to you, to Dyaus, to Rudra, glorious in yourself, To Mitra and Varuṇa, I sing a far-famed hymn to the kind God, a far-famed hymn.
May I sing to your Indra here, the friend beloved of all, the very strong ally, in battles, the very strong ally. In all encounters, strengthen our prayer to be a help to us. No enemy—whom you strike down—subdues you, no enemy, whom you strike down.
Bow down the pride of every foe with succour like kindling wood in the fiercest flame, with mighty succour, Mighty One. Guide us, Hero, as of old, still counted blameless. You drive away all man’s sins as a Priest, as a Priest, in person, seeking us.
This may I utter to the Soma-drop, which, fit to be invoked, with power, awakens the prayer, the demon-slaying prayer. May he himself with darts of death drive far from us the scorner’s hate. Far let him flee away who speaks wickedness and vanish like a mote of dust.
By thoughtful invocation, may we obtain great wealth, O Wealthy One, with Hero sons, sweet wealth with Hero sons. We pacify him who is wrathful with sacred food and eulogies, Indra the Holy, with our calls inspired and true, the Holy One with calls inspired.
Go, for your good and ours, Indra with the aid of your own lordship, to drive the wicked away, to rend the evil-hearted ones! The weapon that fiends cast at us shall destroy themselves. Struck down, it shall not reach the mark; hurled forth, the fire-brand shall