THAT which is wealthiest, Wealthy God in splendor most illustrious, Soma is pressed: thy gladdening draught, Indra! libation’s Lord! is this.
Effectual, Most Effectual One! thine, as bestowing wealth of hymns, Soma is pressed: thy gladdening draught, Indra! libation’s Lord! is this.
With which thou art increased in strength, and conquerest with thy proper aids, Soma is pressed: thy gladdening draught, Indra! libation’s Lord! is this.
Him for your sake I glorify as Lord of Strength who wrongs none, The Hero Indra, conquering all, Most Bountiful, God of all the tribes.
Those Goddesses, both Heaven and Earth, revere the power and might of him, Him whom our songs increase in strength, the Lord of bounty swift to come.
To seat your Indra, I will spread abroad with power this song of praise. The saving succors that abide in him, like songs, extend and grow.
A recent Friend, he found the skilful priest: he drank, and showed forth treasure from the Gods. He conquered, borne by strong all-shaking mares, and was with far-spread power his friends’ Protector.
In course of Law the sapient juice was quaffed: the Deities to glory turned their mind. Winning through hymns a lofty title, he, the Lovely, made his beauteous form apparent.
Bestow on us the most illustrious strength to ward off men’s manifold malignities. Give with thy might abundant vital force, and aid us graciously in gaining riches.
We turn to thee as Giver, liberal Indra. Lord of the Bay Steeds, be not thou ungracious. No friend among mankind have we to look to: why have men called thee him who spurs the niggard?
Give us not up, Strong Hero! to the hungry: unharmed be we whom thou, so rich, befriendest. Full many a boon hast thou for men demolished those who present no gifts nor pour oblations.
As Indra thundering impels the rain-clouds, so doth he send us store of kine and horses. Thou art of old the Cherisher of singers; let not the rich who bring