ALL is with you, O Indra, all the treasures that our ancestors won by praising you. With you are good cows to milk and swift horses; you are the best one to gain riches for the pious.
Like a king among his wives, you dwell; with glory, like a sage, you surround and help us. Make us, your servants, strong for wealth, and let our songs be sung with kine and steeds and adornment.
Here these holy hymns approach you joyfully and gladly in emulation, leading to riches. May your path lead us to riches; may we find shelter in your favor, Indra.
Vasiṣṭha has poured forth his prayers, desiring to milk you like a cow in goodly pasture. All these my people call you Lord of cattle; may Indra come to the prayer we offer.
Though the floods spread widely, Indra made them shallow and easy for Sudās to traverse. He, worthy of our praises, caused the Simyu, the foe of our hymn, to curse the rivers' fury.
Eager for spoil was Turvaśa Purodas, fain to win wealth, like fish urged by hunger. The Bhṛgus and the Druhyus quickly listened; friend rescued friend amid the distant peoples.
Together came the Pakthas, the Bhalanas, the Alinas, the Sivas, the Visanins. Yet to the Trtsus came the Arya's Comrade, through love of spoil and heroes' war, to lead them.
Fools, in their folly, fain to waste her waters, they parted the inexhaustible Paruṣṇī. Lord of the Earth, he with his might repressed them; still lay the herd and the affrighted herdsman.
As to their goal, they sped to their destruction; they sought Paruṣṇī; even the swift returned not. Indra abandoned, to Sudās the manly, the swiftly flying foes, unmanly babblers.
They went like kine unherded from the pasture, each clinging to a friend as chance directed. They who drive spotted steeds, sent down by Pṛśni, gave ear, the Warriors and the harnessed horses.
The King who scattered one-and-twenty people of both Vaikarna tribes through lust of glory— As