Indra, the mighty and wise, stands alone as a force that stirs all peoples, leading the eager toward life and guiding the well-off along the right path. Like a bull with sharp horns, he is fearsome and ever vigilant. In times of battle, Indra listened to Kutsa’s call, intervening with his own presence. He subdued the Dasa Shushna and Kuyava, granting victory to Arjuneya. With boldness, Indra led Sudas, who invoked him, providing every aid. He supported Paurukutsa, Trasadasyu, and Puru, helping them win land and vanquish Vritra. Among men, Indra’s strength shines in the worship of the gods; he has slain many Vritras, casting down the Dasyu, Cumuri, and Dhuni, bringing them to rest for the sake of his friend. Indra’s deeds are legendary. With his thunderbolt, he overthrew ninety-nine cities in a single stroke; entering the hundredth, he slew Vritra, Namuci, and Ahi. These ancient gifts, O Indra, are granted to those who worship rightly, especially to Sudas. To the strong, he yokes his strong steeds, and the hymns bring forth abundant prizes. O Harivaḥ, let not any mighty one assail us with violence at the start of contest. Protect us with your unbroken defenses, and may we be dear to the generous among men. May we, O bountiful Indra, be favored by you; let your friends rejoice in your shelter. Subdue Turvaśa and Yadu, and grant worthy praise to Atithigva. Even now, O generous one, men speak hymns and praises in your honor. Those who invoke you drive away the miser, seeking alliance with you. These praises, O best of men, are for you; they bring gifts to us, O generous Indra. In the slaying of Vṛtra, be gracious—be a friend, a hero, and protector of men. Now, O Indra, heroic one, praised by us, grow strong through our prayers and your own might. Grant us riches and food; may you always guard us with well-being. Come hither with delight, O Indra, and drink this Soma. This is my seat, my sacred grass. Let your tawny steeds, yoked by prayer, bring you; listen to our hymns. With prayer, we, the Soma-offerers, invoke you, O Indra, drinker of Soma, when the Soma is pressed. The singers chant loudly of Indra; the praisers raise their hymns; voices call upon Indra. Indra, united with his two bay steeds, yoked with speech, wields the golden thunderbolt. With far-seeing vision, he made the sun rise in the sky; with the cows, he split the rock. We call upon Indra from every direction for the peoples; may he be ours alone. He traversed the midspace, exhilarated by Soma’s radiance, shattering the enclosure. He drove upward with the Angirases, revealing those who were hidden, pushing the enclosure forward. By Indra, the shining realms of heaven remain firm and unshaken. Like the exhilaration of water, praise rushes to Indra for victory; his exhilarations spread forth. With Indra, you see together, unafraid, united in equal splendor. With blameless and shining companions, the festival shines forth in strength, with Indra’s desirable hosts. They have entered again into the womb, following their own law, upholding the sacrificial name. Indra, with the bones of Dadhīci, unconquered, struck down ninety-nine foes. Desiring the horse’s head hidden among the mountains, he found it in the sanctuary, wondrous indeed. Here, they sought the name of the cow, the lower form of Tvaṣṭṛ, thus in the house of the moon. I take up speech with eight steps, new-garlanded, touching immortality, and from Indra I draw forth my form. Both worlds followed Indra as he strode, when he became the slayer of foes. Rising up with strength, he shook his two jaws and drank the pressed Soma. Break apart all hatreds, O Indra; drive away and destroy the enemies. Bring us that desirable wealth. Whatever is loose or firm, whatever is hidden in the stone, bring us that desirable wealth. Of what you have given, O Indra, all humanity knows; bring us that desirable wealth. Let the singer praise Indra, king of peoples, with fresh songs; the man-slayer, the mightiest among men. In him the hymns resound, and all fame as well, like waters in the ocean. Him I summon with excellent praise—the eldest king, all-accomplishing, great giver of prizes to companions. This, for you, is hidden like a pigeon in the womb; yet you do not disregard this speech. O lord of gifts, bearer of songs, heroic one, may your glory be abundant—may truthfulness be yours. Stand upright for our aid, O hundred-powered one, in this contest; let us speak among the assemblies. Thus, the story of Indra’s might, his gifts, his protection, and his favor flows through the hymns and prayers of those who worship, ever seeking his strength and his blessings.