You are attached to pressed-out Soma, Indra, in praise, in prayer, and when the song is sung; Or when with yoked horses, Maghavan, you come, O Indra, carrying in your arms the thunderbolt.
Or when on that decisive day you press out the juice at Vṛtra's defeat; Or when, fearless and unafraid, you gave the daring Dasyus to death, Indra.
Let Indra drink the pressed-out Soma, Helper and mighty Guide of those who sing his praises. He gives space to the hero who offers oblations, and even to the humble singer.
Even humble rites with your yoked horses he attends; he wields the bolt, drinks Soma, gives us cattle. He makes the valiant rich in heroes, accepts our praise, and listens to the singer’s call.
We have brought to Indra what he desired, who from olden days has served us faithfully. While Soma flows, we will sing hymns and praise him, so that our prayers strengthen Indra.
You made prayer the means to exalt yourself, so we wait on you with hymns, O Indra. May we, by the pressed Soma, Somadhipa! bring you, with sacrifice, blissful refreshment.
Look well at our sacrificial cake, Indra, drink Soma and the mixed milk. Here sit the sacrificer on his grass: give room to your devoted servant.
Be joyful, Mighty One, as you wish. Let these sacrifices reach and find you; And may this hymn and these invocations turn you, whom many invoke, to help us.
Friends, when the juices flow, fill your own, your generous Indra with the Soma. Will it not aid him to support us? Indra. He favors him who sheds the juice to win his favor.
While Soma flowed, thus Indra was praised, Ruler of nobles, among the Bharadvājas, That Indra may become the patron of the singer and give him wealth in every kind of treasure.