They stand around him as he moves, harnessing the bright, ruddy Horse The stars shine in the sky.
On both sides they yoke the two fine horses dear to him, Bold, tawny, bearing the Chief.
You, creating light where there was none, and form, O men: where form wasn't, Were born with the Dawn.
Afterwards, as usual, they cast off the state of unformed infants, Taking sacrificial names.
You, Indra, with the Storm-Gods, the ones breaking down what stands firm, Found the cattle even in the cave.
Worshiping as they please, singers praise him who finds wealth, The renowned far and mighty One.
May you truly be seen coming by fearless Indra's side: Both joyful, equal in your radiance.
With Indra's beloved hosts, blameless and hastening to heaven, The sacrificer cries aloud.
Come from this place, O Wanderer, or downward from the light of heaven: Our praises all yearn for this.
Indra, we seek your help, from here, from heaven above the earth, Or from the vast firmament.