Like Manu, Indra, you drink Soma juice, And, King of Men, with Nīpatithi and Medhatithi, with Pustigya and Sṛstigya—
The son of Prsadvana was Praskaniva’s host, who lay decrepit and forlorn. With your help, the Rishi Dasya-vrka struggled to obtain thousands of cows.
Summon hither with your newest song, Indra, who lacks not hymns of praise, The one who observes and knows, inspirer of the sage, eager to enjoy.
To whom they sang the seven-headed hymn, three-parted, in the loftiest place, He sent his thunder down on all these living things, and thus displayed heroic might.
We invoke that Indra who bestows precious things upon us. Now we know his newest favor; may we gain a stable full of cows.
He whom you aid, gracious Lord, to give again, obtains great wealth to nourish him. We with our Soma ready, Lover of the Song! call, Indra Maghavan, on you.
You are never fruitless, Indra, never desert the worshipper But now, O Maghavan, your bounty as a God is poured forth ever more and more.
He who has overtaken Kṛ́vi with his might, and silenced Śuṣṇa with deathbolts— When he supported yonder heaven and spread it out, then first the son of earth was born.
Wealthy Lord of wealth is he to whom all Āryas, Dāsas here belong. Directly to you, the pious Ruśama Paviru, that wealth is brought near.
In zealous haste, the singers have distilled a song rich in oil and sweetness. Riches have spread among us and heroic strength, with us are flowing Soma drops.