I praise Sakra, to gain his help, renowned, abundant in gifts, Who showers riches on those who drink the Soma and worship him.
A hundred-pointed arrows, unvanquishable, are Indra’s mighty arms in battle. He flows upon generous worshippers like a mountain with springs, when they pour Soma juice and please him.
When the Soma drops delight with their flavor the friend, Like water, gracious Lord! May my libations be as sweet as milk to the worshipper.
To him the peerless one, who calls you to aid, forth flow the drops of sweet mead. The Soma drops that call to you, O gracious Lord, bring you to our hymn of praise.
He rushes like a horse to Soma that adorns our ritual, Which makes us sweet to you, lover of delicious food. Call to Paura you love.
Praise the strong, grasping Hero, victor over spoils, ruler of great wealth. Like a full spring, O Thunderer, from your store you pour on the worshipper forever.
Whether you be afar, in heaven, or on earth, O Indra, thoughtfully pondering, harness your horses, come Lofty with the Lofty Ones.
The horses that draw your chariot, steeds that harm none, surpass the wind’s swift might— With them you silence the foe of man, with them you circle the sky.
O gracious Hero, may we learn anew to know you as you truly are: As in decisive battle you uphold Etaśa, or Vaśa against Dasavraja,
As, Maghavan, to Kaṇva at the sacred feast, to Dirghanitha your dear friend, As to Gosarya you, Stone-darter, gave wealth, give me a golden stall of cows.