Let none, no, not thy worshippers, delay thee far away from us. Even from far away come thou unto our feast, or listen if already here.
For here, like flies on honey, these who pray to thee sit by the juice that they have poured. Wealth-craving singers have on Indra set their hope, as men set foot upon a car.
Longing for wealth I call on him, the Thunderer with the strong right hand, As a son calleth on his sire.
These Soma juices, mixed with curd, have been expressed for Indra here. Come with thy Bay Steeds, Thunder-wielder, to our home, to drink them till they make thee glad.
May he whose ear is open hear us. He is asked for wealth: will he despise our prayer? He who bestows at once a hundred thousand gifts none shall restrain when he would give.
The hero never checked by men hath gained his strength through Indra, Who presses out and pours his deep libations forth, O Vṛtra-slayer, unto thee.
When thou dost drive the fighting men together be, thou Mighty One, the mighty’s shield. May we divide the wealth of him whom thou hast slain: bring us, Unreachable, his goods.
For Indra, Soma-drinker, armed with thunder, press the Soma juice. Make ready your dressed meats: cause him to favour us. The Giver blesses him who gives.
Grudge not, ye Soma pourers; stir you, pay the rites, for wealth, to the great Conqueror. Only the active conquers dwell in peace, and thrive: not for the niggard are the Gods.
No one hath overturned or stayed the car of him who freely gives. The man whom Indra and the Marut host defend comes to a stable full of kine.
Indra, that man when fighting shall obtain the spoil, whose strong defender thou wilt be. Be thou the gracious helper, Hero I of our cars, be thou the helper of our men.
His portion is exceeding great like a victorious soldier’s spoil. He who is Indra, Lord of Bays, no foes subdue. He gives the Soma-pourer strength.
Make for the Holy Gods a hymn that is not mean, but well-arranged and fair of