O Indra, lord of might, ever new powers come to you, drawn from the vast sky, and with these you shatter fortresses and sweep away the godless, breaking all barriers before you. With unyielding spirit, you have never succumbed to the deadly drink of your enemies. As a mighty shaker, you have shaken those who would shake others, releasing the imprisoned waters to flow freely, and when you cross the great sea, you lead Turvaśa and Yadu to safety. Be for us the all-protecting, unassailable lord—guide of men and conqueror in all contests. Grant us knowledge of this people, the long-lived race. Your exhilaration, O Indra, is like the strong drink in the great vessel, powerful and bestowing a thousand prizes. Let that exhilarating strength come to us, you who are unconquered in battle. You are the hero who urges the chariot of men, destroying the lawless Dasyu as fire destroys a vessel. By your wisdom, steal away the sun’s wheel, bring ruin to Śuṣṇa, and carry Kutsa with the swift horses of the wind. Your intoxication is most glorious, your strength unmatched. Slayer of Vṛtra, provider of wide space, be mindful of us and bestow horses. As you were for those who sang before us, never satiated, so now I call to you with this invocation—may we know this people, long-lived. Delight in us for our well-being, O Indra, with the exhilarating Soma. You are invoked by the eager, and the hostile do not prevail against you. To you, whom all peoples praise, we direct our songs, for you are the bull who bestows according to his nature. In your two hands are all the treasures of the five peoples; like a bolt from heaven, strike down those hostile to us. Strike down the non-sacrificer, the malicious one, who is not your friend. Grant us knowledge, for even the wise cannot take away our portion. Your twofold might abides with the hymns, your power is at the summit—bring us, O Indra and Soma, to the prize, lead us to victory in contests. As in former times, O Indra, you were for the singers like inexhaustible water, so now I call upon you—may we know this people, long-lived. Indra, the bull, lord and king of peoples, comes forth, much-invoked. Praised and seeking renown, he comes to our offering, yoking his two strong steeds and approaching swiftly. Those powerful steeds, yoked by hymns, draw his chariot; mount them and come, O Indra, to the pressed Soma. Mount your strong chariot, for your Soma is poured out with sweets. Come with your bay horses to our sacrifice. This is the sacrifice for the gods, the wise act, the hymns, the Soma—all prepared for you. The seat is spread—come, O Shakra, drink and rest, releasing your horses here. O well-praised Indra, come swiftly to the hymns of the worthy singer. By your favor, may we, singing, know the wealth and this long-lived people. Whenever, O Indra, you have that favor by which you became a helper to the singers, may our desire not be left unfulfilled; may I attain your riches, O mighty one. No king can harm you, O Indra, nor can even your sisters touch your place. Even the eager waters come to you; you have found friendship and strength. Indra is the conqueror with men, the hero in battles, the hearer of the humble singer’s call. He sets forth the chariot for the worshipper, raising up songs if he is truly himself. Thus, Indra, famed among men, is glorious, surpassing his rivals in might. He is praised for strength in every assembly; the worshipper’s praise makes him steadfast. With you, O generous Indra, may we overcome our enemies, those who think themselves great. You are our protector and our strength—may we know this people, long-lived. I have endured many autumns, growing weary as the nights and dawns wear away my strength. Old age diminishes the beauty of bodies, yet the strong still reach their wives. Even those who once kept the law, with the gods, have spoken untruths and grown weak; yet the strong still reach their wives. The gods do not help the weary in vain—I have overcome all rivals and won a hundredfold battle when the two, rightly paired, have come together. No desire, though restrained, has come to me from any direction. Lopamudra draws the strong one near; the wise, resolute woman tames the panting man. Now I call upon this Soma, pressed and drunk in our hearts. Whatever we have done, may Soma pardon it, for man is ever eager for pleasure. Agastya, digging with spades, sought offspring, progeny, and strength; the mighty seer nourished both races and attained true blessings among the gods. Your realms, O Ashvins, your well-guided horses and chariot, are bestowed as you traverse the paths. Your golden filter pours forth honey as you join with the dawn. You do not neglect the offering of the noble worshipper who seeks your favor; your sister brings you universal praise, desiring strength and honeyed drink. You have placed milk in the cow’s udder, the ancient gift. When the pure sacrificer invokes you among the woods, he worships you with oblations. You have chosen the honeyed warmth for the guest, as waters choose their channel; so the cattle seek you, and the honey flows like wheels along the road. For your giving, O wondrous Ashvins, I would turn with the strength of a bull; the waters and earth attend your greatness, and the swift, worshipful one praises you. When you harness your generous steeds, you send forth the nourishing one with your powers; like a swift wind, the wise gives for greatness, and the well-willed one grants strength. We, your singers, proclaim your truth with praise, for the reward is set. Thus, O Ashvins, the paths are never to be blamed, for the strong always lead to the divine. You, Ashvins, always follow the days, at the stream of the mighty one; Agastya, renowned among men, like a craftsman, shines forth with thousands. When you advance with the greatness of your chariot, you move swiftly like a human priest; grant to the wise, and to your own horses as well, that we may be rich in treasures.