INDRA, God of the strong arm, come to us with your right hand, Gather our plentiful feast.
We know you mighty in your deeds, of great abundance, great wealth, Great in measure, swift to help.
Hero, when you wish to give, neither gods nor mortals can hold you back, Like a fierce bull, they cannot stop you.
Come, let us praise Indra, Lord of great wealth, Self-ruling King: May he not harm us in his bounty.
Let the prelude play and follow with song, may he hear the Sāman sung, And with his bounty answer us.
O Indra, with your right hand bring, and with your left remember us. Let us not lose our share of wealth.
Come close, O Bold One, bring here the riches of the poor, Who gives the least of all the folk.
Indra, the booty you have with holy singers to receive, Win that booty with us as well.
Indra, your swift spoil, the booty that delights all, Sounds quickly with our hopes in harmony.