From afar or near, mighty Indra, giver of aid, come for our protection, O Lord of men, armed with thunder, with the Strongest, slaying your foes in battle.
May Indra come to us with tawny horses, inclined to us, to favor and enrich us. May Maghavan, loud-voiced and wielding thunder, stand by us at this sacrifice, in combat.
You, honoring this sacrifice, O Indra, shall give us strength and fill us with courage. To win the spoils, Thunder-armed! Like hunters, may we subdue our enemies with you.
Loving us well, benevolent, close by, drink, Godlike Indra, of the pressed Soma. Drink of the meath we offer, and delight you with food from the mountain ridges.
He whom the recent sages sing aloud, like a fruit-bearing tree, a scythe-armed victor— I, like a bridegroom thinking of my bride, call to you, Indra, invoked by many.
He whose native strength is like a mountain, the lofty Indra born or old for conquest, Terrific wielder of ancient thunder. Filled with splendor as a jar with water.
Whom from of old there is no one to hinder, none to curtail the richness of his bounty. Pouring forth freely, O Strong and Mighty, grant us riches, God invoked by many!
Wealth and homes of men you rule, and open the stable of cattle. Helper of men, winner of spoils in combat, you lead to an abundant heap of riches.
By what great might is he renowned as strongest, with which the lofty One stirs up wild battles? Best comforter of the worshipper’s great sorrow, he gives possessions to the man who praises him.
Do not kill us; bring the ample gift you have to give to him who offers. At this new offering, with this praise sung before you, we, Indra, will declare it.
Now, Indra! Praised and glorified with praises, let power swell high, like rivers, for the singer. A new hymn, Lord of Bays! This is fashioned for you. May we, car-born, through song be victors ever.