Like a young bird perched on a tree, swift pair, you've been awoken by clear invocation, whose herald-priest has sung for many days, Indra, Earth's protector, friend of men, the greatest hero.
May we, when this dawn dances hither, be your best servants, most heroic hero! Let the victorious chariot, with triple brilliance, bring the hundred chiefs with Kutsa.
What was the joyous drink that pleased you, Indra? May it speed through our doors to songs, for you are mighty. Why do you come to me, what gift attracts you? I would gladly bring you the most fitting offering.
Indra, what fame do you hold among heroes? With what plan will you act? Why have you sought us? As a true friend, Wide-Strider! To sustain us, since food absorbs the thoughts of each among us.
May they meet their wishes, as Sūrya ends his journey, like bridegrooms meeting their spouses; Men who present, O Indra, strong by nature, with food the many songs that tell your praises.
You have two measures, Indra, well-measured, heaven for your majesty, earth for your wisdom. Here, for your choice, are Somas mixed with butter: may the sweet meath be pleasant for your drinking.
They have poured out a bowl to him, to Indra, full of sweet juice, for he is faithful in his bounty. Over the expanse of earth, he has grown great by wisdom, the friend of man, and by heroic deeds.
Indra has conquered in his wars, the Mighty: men strive in multitudes to win his friendship. Ascend your chariot as if in battle, which you shall drive to us with gracious favor.