Indra, the generous and mighty one, encompassed all peoples in his greatness. Like a powerful bull, he called forth the nourishing cows among men, bestowing abundance upon those whose offerings delighted him. For the devotee whose heart pleased Indra, fierce battles were endured and conquered, strengthened by the potent Somas. Just as rivers receive the rushing waters from every direction, so too did the sacred Somas flow toward Indra, gathering like channels into a vast lake. The inspired sages magnified his glory in his seat of power, their praises nourishing him as divine rain sustains the ripening barley. Indra, like a raging bull soaring through the heavens, drove away the wives of his foes, casting off darkness. To the devoted worshipper who poured the Soma with faith, he revealed the radiant light, dispelling all gloom. May the shining axe rise, gleaming with brilliance; may the ancient, sacred cow yield abundant milk of truth. Let the radiant one shine forth in crimson splendor, and may the gracious lord reveal his purest brilliance to all. With the gift of cows, O Indra, drive away every hostile thought; with barley, banish hunger; with all forms of wealth, fulfill every need. May we, together with our rulers, win the foremost riches through our own strength. Bṛhaspati, protector, shield us from behind, from above, and from below, guarding us from harm. Let Indra stand watch before us and in our midst; as a friend among friends, may he clear our path. Bṛhaspati and Indra, lords of riches both heavenly and earthly, bestow wealth upon those who praise you, upon the singer who lifts his voice. Ever shelter us with your blessings. We, your friends, come before you, Indra, for this very purpose; the Kaṇvas sing your praises in hymns. O wielder of the thunderbolt, never have the waters failed at the new moon, for they recognize your praise alone. The gods themselves long for the one who presses the Soma; they forsake slumber, drawn tirelessly to the feast. We, your friends, O Indra, proclaim your greatness; know this, O giver of riches, for our sake. Let no enemy, whether near or far, whether speaking or silent, overpower us in battle. May our resolve be steadfast in you. You are our armor—broad, strong, the foremost champion, the slayer of obstacles. With you as our ally, we speak with confidence. For the slaying of obstacles and the overcoming of armies, we set you in motion, Indra. May your mind and your vision, O Indra of a hundred powers, be turned toward us by our songs. We invoke all your names with every hymn, seeking your aid in overcoming foes. With your hundred powers, O much-praised one, we magnify your strength, Indra, upholder of peoples. To you, Indra, much-invoked, we call for the destruction of obstacles and the gaining of strength in battle. Be victorious in every contest, O hundred-powered one; we call upon you for triumph over all that stands in our way. In glory, in the heat of battle, in contests for fame, O Indra, be present amidst our struggles. Protect the most invigorating, glorious, and wakeful Soma for our aid, O Indra, hundred-powered. The powers that are yours among the five peoples, O Indra of a hundred powers—those I choose for you. Accept, O Indra, great fame and unconquerable glory; with your might, may we cross over every challenge. Come to us from near or far, O mighty one; wherever your realm extends, O stone-armed Indra, come here from there. Indra sits above all fear and does not waver; he is steadfast among peoples. May Indra show us mercy; may harm not reach us from behind; may good fortune be before us. May Indra make us fearless from every direction; let him, the ever-active among peoples, conquer our enemies. We bring forth our speech for the great—hymns for Indra in the house of the Sun. For just as seekers find hidden treasure, so is praise fruitful among the generous, never among the ill-praised. Far away is the horse, far away the cow for you, O Indra; far is the barley, O lord of wealth. O mighty one, teach us from your highest, unconstrained abode; O friend, we sing these hymns to you on behalf of your friends. Your wealth, O Indra—mighty, glorious, and watched on every side—gathers and comes at your command. Therefore, gather it and bring it here, overcoming all, and do not let the singer’s wish go unfulfilled. With these shining days and sacred drops, dispelling ignorance, O Ashvins, with cows; and with Indra, may we strike down the foe. May we, united and free from hatred, attain abundance. Together with Indra, with wealth and plenty, may we attain; together with prizes, delights, and shining ones. With the divine, with surpassing strength, heroic vigor, and the foremost cows and horses, may we attain all blessings. Those exhilarations, those powers of the bull, those Somas, O lord of the good, have gladdened you in your slaying of Vritra. For the worshipper, you struck down ten unassailable Vritras; for the one who offers, you cast down thousands. Battle after battle you approached with boldness; city after city you destroyed with your might. O Indra, with true friendship even in distant lands, you cast down Namuci, master of illusion. You slew Karandja and Parṇaya with your most powerful weapon on Atithigva’s path. You shattered a hundred cities of the Vaṅgṛdas, drove away their defenders, and cleared the way for Ṛjiśvan. You confronted those two kings of the people, along with their ten brothers and Suśravas, the renowned. Sixty thousand and ninety-nine famed warriors you struck down with the wheel of your chariot, O subduer of the difficult. You aided Suśravas with your protections, O Indra, and helped Tūrvayāṇa. You granted life to Kutsa and Atithigva, to the great youthful king, to the one who never falters in battle. Those who are your friends, O Indra, divine guardians, are most auspicious and harmonious. We will ever praise you; with you as our ally, may we, blessed with heroic sons, enjoy long life and secure passage. To you, the bull among the pressed, I pour forth the Soma for you to drink. Be satisfied, O Indra, and partake of the exhilaration. Let not the foolish or the envious harm you; let not the mockers oppress you. May you never be overcome by those who hate the sacred utterance.