The chanters praise you, those who speak the word of honor. Priests have raised you high, O Śatakratu, like a pole.
As he climbs from ridge to ridge and sees the hard work, Indra watches this wish of his, and the Rain comes with his troop.
Harness your strong horses, long-haired, whose bodies fill the girths, And, Indra, Soma-drinker, come to listen to our songs.
Come here, answer our song, sing in approval, shout loud. Good Indra, make our prayer successful, and prosper this sacrifice.
To Indra must be said a laud, to strengthen him who freely gives, That Śakra may take pleasure in our friendship and drink-offerings.
Him, him we seek for friendship, him for riches and heroic might. For Indra, he is Śakra, he will aid us with his wealth.
It's easy to turn and drive away, Indra, the spoils you give. Open the stable of the kine, and give us wealth, Thunder-armed Indra.
The heaven and earth cannot contain you, together, in your fury. Win us the waters of the sky, and send us many cows.
Hear, you whose ears are quick, my call; take my songs readily. O Indra, let this laud of mine come closer than your friend.
We know you are the mightiest, in battles hearing our cries. Most mighty, we invoke the aid that brings a thousand gifts.
O Indra, Son of Kuśika, drink our libation with joy. Extend our life anew, and make the seer win a thousand gifts.
Lover of song, may these songs surround you everywhere: Strengthening you with lengthened life, may they be dear delights to you.