Those who are mighty, who call upon Indra with heartfelt hymns, spreading the sacred grass in their homes and seeking his favor, are the ones who attain the prize. Indra, the fierce hero, delights in the Soma offered in the three vats. He is pleased with the bearded priests who praise him, and, drawn by their devotion, he comes swiftly with his steeds to partake in the pressed Soma. Indra, take up once more the might with which you struck down Vritra, the Danu, as if he were a swelling cloud. With that power, you uncovered the light for the Aryan people, and the Dasyu, subdued, sat down at your right side. With your help, may we overcome all hostilities, O Indra, conquering the Dasyus with Aryan strength. Grant us the all-formed wealth of Tvashtar, just as you bestowed it upon Tritas, your friend. Growing strong through the pressing of exhilarating Soma, Indra shattered the cloud. Like the sun turning its wheel, he split open Vala, releasing the hidden riches, O Angiras. May generous rewards always come to the singer, O Indra. Teach us, giver of riches, and do not withhold your portion from those who praise you. May we speak mightily in the assembly, victorious by your grace. Indra was the first and most powerful, the god who, by his will, surpassed all other gods. By his might, heaven and earth tremble; by his heroic greatness, men exist. He made firm the trembling earth, set the mountains in motion with his anger, measured out the vast midspace, and propped up the sky. It was Indra who, having slain the serpent, released the seven rivers; who drove the cows from the cave of Vala; who generated fire between two stones, gathering victory in battle. All moving things are set in motion by him. He struck down the dark-skinned Dasa hidden below, and, like a hunter, destroyed the many wealthy ones. Some, in awe, ask, “Where is he?”—so fearsome is he that others say, “He does not exist.” Yet he, the noble one, diminishes the wealth of the prosperous as if splitting it. Let faith be placed in him. Indra is the encourager of the weak, the poor, and the priest who is not honored. He protects the one who presses Soma with stones, O fair-jawed one. His horses, cows, villages, and chariots are everywhere. He generated the sun and the dawn and is the leader of the waters. All call upon him—the weeping and the united, the distant and the near, even enemies and those who ride together but differ in mind. Without Indra, men do not win. Fighters call for his help in battle. He became the measure of all things, the unshaken among the unshaken. He struck down the proud and arrogant who thought themselves invincible. He does not yield to challengers and is the slayer of the Dasyu. Indra found Shambara in his mountain stronghold in the fortieth autumn and slew the growing serpent and the sleeping Danu. As the bull with seven rays, he released the seven rivers to flow. With his thunder-armed might, he struck down Rauhina as he ascended to the sky. Even heaven and earth bow to him, and the mountains fear his might. The drinker of Soma is praised, thunder-armed and thunder-handed. He protects the one who presses Soma, who cooks, who praises, and who is silent in worship. Prayer is his strength, as are Soma and the gifts offered to him. Even when Soma is pressed or cooked, Indra grants the prize, even to the weak. Truly, he is real. May we always be dear to you, O Indra, victorious, and mighty in the assembly. The season, the mother, gave birth to him. From her waters, he quickly entered and grew within her. At his birth, nourishing milk was produced—the first and most excellent portion of the sap. Together, they bear milk, offering nourishment for all to enjoy. Sharing the same path, they flow forth for humanity. He who made them first is worthy of praise. One speaks as he gives, measuring according to his nature; another departs alone. All bear the actions of the one who made them first and is worthy of praise. They distribute sustenance among offspring, like wealth spreading from a summit. With sharp teeth, they consume the father’s food. He who made them first is worthy of praise. He who made the earth visible and the sky, who cleansed the paths and slew the serpent—him we praise with hymns and offerings, for the gods created him, the worthy one. He gives food and growth, draws sweet moisture from both dry and wet, places treasure for the shining one, and is the sole ruler of all; he is worthy of praise. By his law, he upholds the blossoming and the flowing, sustains the gifts, is unmatched, radiant, and vast in the heavens and all around. He is worthy of praise. He brings down the arrogant and the hostile, leads the strong and the generous, and his mouth is filled with nourishing strength. Even today, he is worthy of much praise. Whether a hundred or ten act together in service of one, when you urge them on, you bind the enemies for the fearful, and you become renowned for your protection. All powers followed his manliness, giving him wealth and placing riches for the accomplished. He supported six, established five, and surpassed others—he is worthy of praise. O hero, your deeds are well spoken, for with your single resolve you obtain wealth. All your strength and might, O Indra, is worthy of praise. You make the swift and the strong pass over, grant hearing to Turvīta and Vayya, raise up the lowly, turn back the distant, and make the blind hear—truly, you are worthy of praise. For us, O generous one, establish that gift for giving; much of your wealth is fit for us. Indra, whatever splendid fame is in the heavens, let us speak it greatly in the assembly, O mighty ones. O priests, bring Soma for Indra. Pour the intoxicating drink with your measures, for the hero desires the feast in his dwelling. Offer it to the mighty one, for he wishes it. Bring this offering for him who held back the waters and slew Vritra, as one fells a tree—this Indra deserves the drink. Offer Soma to Indra, adorned with garments, for he who slew Dṛbhika, released the cows, and broke open Vala for you, for him in the midspace, like the wind, let Soma be offered. Bring Soma for him who slew Uraṇa, struck down ninety-nine arms, and subdued Arbuda below—offer Soma to Indra for his delight. Bring Soma for the one who slew Svaśna, destroyed Śuṣṇa, Aśuṣa, and Vyaṃsa, and struck down Pipru, Namuci, and Rudhikrā—offer the intoxicating drink to Indra. Bring Soma for him who broke a hundred cities of Śambara, as one splits stones, and who destroyed a hundred and a thousand of Varchin—offer Soma to him, to Indra. Thus, with hymns and offerings, the mighty Indra is ever praised—the first and greatest, the champion of gods and men, the bringer of light, the slayer of foes, the giver of wealth, and the protector of all who call upon him.