Drink Soma, Mighty One, praised by us, you break through the cattle stalls, O Indra; You who, O Bold One, with thunder strike down Vṛtra mightily, and all enemies.
Drink it, God of impetuous might, Lord of our hymns, with beautiful jaws, the Hero, Fill the kine stalls, car-borne, thunder-wielding, pierce your way to wonder, O Indra.
Drink as you did before, and may the draught please you. Hear our prayer and let our songs exalt you. Illuminate the Sun, make food plentiful, slay foes, pierce through, and free the cattle.
Quaff these cheering drops, Self-sustainer, and your mighty splendor will increase. May the cheering drops delight you greatly, great, perfect, strong, powerful, all-subduing.
By them, bursting the firm enclosures, you gave splendor to the Sun and Morning. The mighty rock that held the cattle, never moved, you drove away, O Indra.
With your wisdom, power, and wonders, you filled the raw cows' udders with ripe milk, Opened the firm doors for the kine of Morning, and, with the Aṅgirases, freed the cattle.
You spread out wide earth, a mighty marvel, and, high yourself, propped lofty heaven, O Indra. Both worlds, whose sons are gods, you supported, young mothers from old time of holy order.
Yes, Indra, all the Deities installed you as their strong champion in battle. When the godless was the Gods' assailant, Indra they chose to win the light of heaven.
Yes, even that heaven itself once bent backward before your bolt, in fear of its anger, When Indra, life of every living creature, struck down within his lair the assailing Dragon.
Yes, Strong One! Tvaṣṭar turned for you, the Mighty, the bolt with thousand spikes and hundred edges, Eager and prompt at will, crushing the boasting Dragon, O impetuous Hero.
He dressed a hundred buffaloes, O Indra, for you, whom all agreeable Maruts strengthen. He, Pūṣan Viṣṇu, poured forth three great vessels to you, the juice that cheers, that slaughters Vṛtra. 12.