For this man’s libations poured in ladles, he has stirred him, eager, like a horse to meet a mare. He holds back his golden chariot, yoked with swift Bay Horses, and drinks the Soma juice that fortifies for great deeds.
To him flow the full praises sung in song, as those seeking gain travel together to the river. To him the Lord of power, the holy assembly’s might, ascends with speed, as loving ones approach.
Victorious, great is he; in manly battle shines, unstained with dust, his might, like a mountain peak. With iron, fierce even against the strong, in rapture, he binds cunning Śushṇa fast in bonds.
When Strength, the Goddess, made stronger by thee, waits on Indra as the Sun watches the Dawn, Then he, with unflinching might, stirs up the dust high, with joy and triumph, slaying the gloom.
When you, with might, fixed the framework of the sky, across the air’s region, firmly, unremoved, In the light-winning war, Indra, in rapturous joy, you struck down Vṛtra and brought down floods of rain.
You, with your might, grasped the holder-up of heaven, you who are mighty also in the seats of earth. You, glad with the juice, freed the waters, broke through Vṛtra’s stone walls, through and through.