There are some who, in awe and uncertainty, ask, “Where is he?”—for Indra’s presence is fearsome and elusive. Others, doubting, claim, “He does not exist.” Yet this noble one, Indra, is real and powerful; he can diminish the wealth of the prosperous as though splitting it apart. In him, faith should be placed. Indra is the encourager of those who are weak and poor, and he watches over the priest who receives no honor. He protects the one who presses the sacred Soma, the fair-jawed one—this too is Indra’s nature. His might knows no bounds: his horses, his cows, his villages, and his chariots are found in every direction. Indra is the one who brought forth the sun and the dawn, and he leads the waters on their courses. In times of sorrow and in times of unity, from far and near, all call upon Indra—even enemies and those who share a chariot but are divided in mind. All invoke him. Without Indra, men do not win their battles. Fighters call for his help amidst the clash of arms. He is the measure of all things, the steadfast among the steadfast. Indra has struck down the proud and arrogant, those who believed themselves invincible. He never yields to a challenger and is the slayer of the Dasyu. He found Shambara, hidden in the mountains for forty years, and slew him. He destroyed the growing serpent and struck down the sleeping Danu. As a mighty bull with seven rays, Indra released the seven rivers to flow freely. With his thunder-armed strength, he struck down Rauhina as he rose to the sky. Even heaven and earth bow before Indra; even the mountains are humbled by his might. He, the drinker of Soma, is praised as the thunder-armed hero. Indra protects those who press Soma, those who cook and offer praise, and even those who remain silent in worship. His strength is found in prayer, in Soma, and in every gift 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, Indra—may we be victorious and speak mightily in the assembly. Indra’s birth was wondrous: the season, the mother, brought him forth, and from her waters he quickly entered and grew within her. At his birth, nourishing milk was produced—the first and finest portion of the sap. The nourishing streams flow together, bearing milk for all to enjoy, following the same path, and flowing forth for humanity. The one who made them first—he is worthy of praise. One gives, measuring by his nature, while another departs alone. All bear the results of the actions of the one who made them first; he alone is worthy of praise. They distribute sustenance among offspring, like wealth spreading from a summit, and, with sharp teeth, they consume the father’s food. The one who made all this first is worthy of praise. He who made the earth and the sky visible, who cleared the paths and slew the serpent—him we praise with hymns and offerings. The gods themselves created him, the worthy one. He gives food and growth, drawing sweet moisture from both dry and wet places. He placed treasures for the shining ones and is the sole ruler of all; he is worthy of praise. By his law, he upholds both blossoming and flowing things, sustaining gifts. Unmatched and radiant, vast in the heavens and all around, he is worthy of praise. He brings down the arrogant and hostile, leads the strong and generous, and his mouth is filled with nourishing strength. Even today, he is worthy of much praise. Whether a hundred or ten serve together, when you urge them on, Indra, you bind the enemies for the fearful. You have become renowned for your protection. All powers followed his might, granting him wealth and placing riches for the accomplished. Indra supported six, established five, and surpassed all others—he is worthy of praise. O hero, your deeds are sung by all. By your single resolve, you obtain wealth. The strength of the ever-firm and mighty one—O Indra, all you have done is worthy of praise. You help the swift and the strong to cross over, you grant hearing to Turvīta and Vayya, you raise the lowly, turn back the distant, and make the blind hear. You are worthy of praise. O generous one, grant us that gift for giving; your wealth is abundant and fit for us. Indra, whatever splendid fame shines in the heavens, let us proclaim it greatly in the assembly. O priests, bring Soma for Indra, pour out the intoxicating drink, for the hero desires the feast in his dwelling. Offer it to the mighty one, for this is his wish. He who held back the waters and slew Vritra as one fells a tree—bring him this offering, for Indra deserves the drink. He who slew Dṛbhika, who released the cows, who broke open Vala for you—offer Soma to Indra, adorned, in the midspace, like the wind. He who slew Uraṇa, who struck down ninety-nine arms, who subdued Arbuda below—offer Soma to Indra for his delight. He who slew Svaśna, destroyed Śuṣṇa, Aśuṣa, and Vyaṃsa, who struck down Pipru, Namuci, and Rudhikrā—offer the intoxicating drink to Indra. He who broke a hundred cities of Shambara as one splits stones, who destroyed a hundred and a thousand of Varchin—offer Soma to him, to Indra. He who seized a hundred and a thousand in the lap of the earth, who struck down and covered the warriors of Kutsa, Ayu, and Atithigva—offer Soma to him, to Indra. When men yearn and perform the ritual, offer Soma, purified by your hands, for the renowned Indra. Prepare the ritual for him; raise the wood purified in the forest; offer the exhilarating Soma to Indra, who delights in the drink. As you fill generous Indra with the milk of the cow and with Soma, know his quiet presence—he who gives and is ever eager for sacrifice. He is the lord of heavenly wealth, the king of the earth and all that is born of the land. Fill mighty Indra with Soma; let this be your accomplishment. O Lord, grant us wealth for giving; establish your abundance, for your generosity is great. Indra, whatever splendid fame endures through the days, let us speak it greatly in the assembly, strong among men. Now, let the great and true deeds of Indra be declared. In the Trikadruka presses, he drank the Soma, and in that exhilaration, Indra slew the serpent. With his might, he propped up the sky, filled the two worlds, and expanded the midspace. He sustained and spread the earth, and all these things he accomplished by the power of Soma. Like a master builder, he measured out the eastern spaces with his powers. With the thunderbolt, he cut through the river channels, releasing them to flow freely on their long paths—all by the exhilaration of Soma. Moving about, Indra overcame obstacles, readied all weapons in the kindled fire, and sent forth cows and horses with chariots. All these mighty deeds, Indra accomplished, empowered by the sacred drink.