I'll sing praise to Indra, the generous giver of good things, known to us all; The praise of Maghavan, rich in treasures, showers wealth on his singers, a thousandfold.
Like a hundred armies, he charges bravely on, and for the sacrificer, he slays his enemies. Like mountain streams that flow down to lakes, so do his gifts sustain many.
The drops he releases, the sweet draughts he bestows, O Indra, Lover of the Son— Like waters seeking their lake, let them fill you, Thunderer, with bounty.
The unmatched draught that strengthens and brings eloquence, the sweetest of the mead, May you, in your joy, scatter your gifts over us, abundantly, as the dust.
Come quickly to our praise, urged on by Soma-drinkers, like a horse— Praise, Godlike Indra, that makes milch-kine sweet for you: with Kaṇva's sons, gifts for you.
With homage, we have sought you, Hero, strong and preeminent, with unending wealth. O Thunderer, as a plentiful spring pours forth its stream, so, Indra, let our songs flow to you.
Whether at sacrifice or on the earth, come here, wise one, to our sacrifice, swift and mighty.
Swift-footed, tawny coursers, fleet as wind, like the Wind, you visit Manus' seed, visible in all the sky.
We ask for great prosperity in wealth of cattle, as you, Maghavan, favored Medhyātithi in battle, and Nipatithi.
As you, Maghavan, bestowed wealth in cattle and gold to Kaṇva, Trasadasyu, and Paktha and Dasavraja; As you, Indra, gave wealth in cattle and gold to Gosarya and Rishisvan.