The men have raised Indra high, the Vṛtra slayer, to joy and might: Invoke him, then, in every battle, big or small; may he be our aid in deeds of power.
You, Hero, are a warrior, you give much plunder. You strengthen even the weak, you aid the sacrificer, you give the offerer much wealth.
When war and battles rage, booty lies before the brave. Harness your wild horses. Who shall you slay, and who enrich? Make us rich, O Indra.
Mighty through wisdom, as he listens, terrible, he grows in strength. Lord of the swift steeds, strong-jawed, sublime, he grasps his iron thunderbolt in joined hands for glory.
He fills the earthly air and presses against the stars in heaven. None like you has ever been born, nor will be born like you, Indra. You have grown mighty over all.
May he who gives sustenance to the offerer give us the foe’s sustainer, May Indra lend his aid to us. Scatter—abundant is your wealth—so that in your bounty I may share.
He, righteous-hearted, gives us herds of cattle at each time of joy. Gather in both your hands for us treasures of many kinds. Sharpen us, and bring us wealth.
Refresh you, Hero, with the juice poured out for bounty and strength. We know you, Lord of ample store, to you our hearts’ desires have sent: be our Protector, O Indra.
These people, Indra, keep for you what is worthy of your choice. Discover the wealth of those who do not offer gifts: bring to us this wealth of theirs.