WE, Indra, Lord of abundant wealth, our guide, rely on one like you, You who drive the golden horses.
For, hurler of the thunderbolt, we know you truly, the giver of our sustenance, We know the giver of our wealth.
O you whose majesty the poets sing about with their songs, you Lord, Of a hundred powers and a hundred aids.
Mortal men find fair guidance under Aryaman, the Maruts, and Mitra, Free of deceit, who protect them.
Cows, horses, and heroic strength they gain, prospered by the Ādityas, Ever in wealth that all desire.
We pray to Indra for his gift, the Fearless and the Strong, We pray to him the Lord of wealth.
Indeed, in him all fearless helpers are combined. Rich in wealth, let swift horses bring to us, his Bays, for his Soma feast:
That most excellent feast, Indra, which vanquishes most foes, With heroes wins the light of heaven, and is invincible in war:
It merits fame, all-bountiful! And, unyielding, victory in deeds of might. So come to our libations, Strongest! May we obtain a stall of kine.
Responding to our wish for cows, for horses, and chariots, as of old, Be gracious, Greatest of the Great.
For, Hero, I cannot find the bounds of your generosity. Still do you favor us, O Bolt-armed Maghavan: with strength you rewarded hymns.
High, glorifier of his friend, he knows all generations, he whom many praise. All races of mankind with ladies invoke that Mighty Indra’s aid.
Be he our Champion and Protector in great deeds, rich in all wealth, the Vṛtra-slayer, Maghavan.
In the wild raptures of the juice, sing to your Hero with high praise, to him the Wise, To Indra, glorious in his name, the Mighty One, even as the hymn allows it.
You give wealth to me myself, you give treasure, Excellent! and the strong steed, O Much-invoked, in deeds of might, yes, even now.
Him, Sovereign Ruler of all precious things, who even has