INDRA, when Soma flows, purifies his mind, ready for praise. He gains the power that brings success, for he is great.
In heaven’s first region, in the seat of gods, stands he who brings success, Most glorious, prompt to save, who wins the water floods.
To gain strength, invoke him, mighty for battle, INDRA. Be near to us for bliss, a friend to aid.
INDRA, Song-lover, here flows the worshipper’s libation. You shine forth in this sacred grass, rejoicing.
Now, O INDRA, give us what we crave, the juice you press, Wealth manifold that lights the sky.
When the zealous worshipper sings his songs to you, Branches grow like desires, what they seek.
Sing songs as of old, give joy to the singer’s call. You’ve grown great at every feast, for the pious.
Sweet strains that glorify him flow like waters down a slope, Him, the Lord of Heaven, called in this song.
Him, alone called Lord, the single ruler of the folk, By worshippers seeking aid: may he enjoy the draught.
Praise him, the Glorious, skilled in song, Lord of the two victorious Bays: They seek your abode who bow in prayer.
Pour forth your strength, with dappled horses come, Swift horses for the sacrifice, for it is your joy.
Grant wealth to those who praise you, Lord of Heroes, Mightiest INDRA: Our princes everlasting fame and opulence.
Call you when the Sun rises, call you at noonday’s peak, With your car-horses, INDRA, come well pleased to us.
Come hither swiftly, make us happy with the milk you pour, Unravel the thread of ancient time, as well known.
If, Śakra, Vṛtra-slayer, you are far or near to us, Or in the sea, you guard the Soma juice.
Let songs we sing and Soma drops expressed make you strong: Tribes who offer sacrifices find delight in you.
Sages, with offerings in eager haste, make you grow, All mankind have made you sprout, as branches do.
At the Trkadrukas, the gods stir up the mind: