O Indra, Vṛtra-slayer, none is better, mightier than you:
Verily there is none like you.
Like chariot-wheels, all people follow after you: You are always renowned as Great.
Even the gathered Gods could not conquer you in battle, When you lengthened days by night.
For the sake of those oppressed, and Kutsa battling fiercely, You stole the Sun’s chariot wheel.
Alone, Indra, you defeated all furious gods, And slew those who fought with you.
For a mortal man, Indra, you brought forth the Sun, And protected Etaśa mightily.
Are you not, Maghavan, fiercest in your wrath? So have you subdued the demon too.
And this heroic deed of might you, Indra, have achieved, That you killed the Dame, Heaven’s Daughter, plotting ill.
You, Indra, Mighty One, crushed Uṣas, daughter of the Sky, When she lifted herself in pride.
Then from her chariot Uṣas fled, terrified, from her ruined car. When the strong God shattered it.
So here this chariot of Uṣas lay, broken to pieces, And she herself fled far away.
You, Indra, with magical power resisted the overflowing stream, Who spread her waters over the land.
Valiantly you seized and took the store Śuṣṇa amassed, When you crushed his fortresses.
You, Indra, also struck down Kulitara’s son Śambara, The Dāsa, from the lofty hill.
You slew Dāsa Varcin’s hundred thousand and five, Crushed like the felloes of a chariot.
So, Indra, Lord of Heroes, Powers, caused the unwedded son, The castaway, to share the lauds.
So wise Indra, Lord of Might, brought Turvaśa and Yadu, Those who feared the flood, safely over.
Arṇa and Citraratha, both Āryas, you, Indra, slew swiftly, On the other side of Sarayu.
You, Vṛtra-slayer, conducted those two forlorn, the blind, the lame. None may attain this bliss of yours.
For Divodāsa, who brought offerings, Indra overthrew A hundred stone fort