Indra, the mighty one, and Parvata, were called upon with reverence, their great chariot invoked to bring prosperity and joy. The worshippers, with heartfelt offerings and songs of praise, invited these gods to the sacrifice, hoping they would grow stronger and rejoice in the hymns dedicated to them. With devotion, the worshipper pleaded for Indra’s presence, asking him to remain steadfast and not depart, to partake of the well-pressed soma, the sacred drink of the gods. Just as a son clings affectionately to his father, so did the devotee hold to Indra through sweet and powerful praise. The Adhvaryu, the priest, was urged to recite and announce the offerings, that Indra might be pleased. The sacrificer’s sacred grass was prepared, and the best of hymns were sung for Indra’s delight. As evening approached, the wish was voiced for the generous one to be born anew and reach his destined place. Indra’s yoked steeds were called to carry him whenever soma was pressed, with Agni, the divine messenger, ensuring Indra’s swift arrival. Indra was invited to come and go as he wished, for his blessings were beneficial in every direction. Wherever the treasures of the great chariot were found, and the swift horses and donkeys released, there too was the promise of reward and abundance. The call went out for Indra to travel to the west and drink the soma, that his noble wives might rejoice in his house. Again, where the treasures of the chariot lay, and the swift steeds were freed, there would be reward. The Angirases, generous and heroic sons of heaven, were praised for bestowing riches upon Viśvāmitra. Through their thousandfold offerings, they had prolonged his life. Indra himself appeared in many forms, creating wonders and shaping his body as he chose. He came three times a day from the sky, keeping the seasons in order through his own spells, always true to the cosmic law. The great seer, born and inspired by the gods, once held back the river and the ocean, perceiving with human eyes. When Viśvāmitra led Sudās, Indra showed favor to the Kuśikas, granting them his grace. The worshippers, likened to swans, composed hymns with the stones, rejoicing with songs and pressed soma at the sacrifice. The wise seers, with human sight, drank the soma nectar together with the gods, especially the Kuśikas. The Kuśikas were urged to come together, attentive and ready, to release the horse for wealth and grant it to Sudās. The king, having crushed Vṛtra, worshipped in all directions, excelling across the earth. Indra, praised for satisfying both heaven and earth, was honored. The prayer of Viśvāmitra was said to protect the Bhārata people. The Viśvāmitras continued their offerings to Indra, the thunderbolt-wielder, seeking abundant gifts. A question was raised about the cows among the Kīkaṭas, for they yielded no milk nor felt any heat. The wisdom of Pramaganda was sought, and Indra was asked to break the low branch for the worshippers. A serpent-like thought, vast and resistant, was given by Jamadagni. The sun’s daughter spread immortal and undecaying fame among the gods. This serpent-like fame arose among the peoples of Pañcajana, spreading their glory. The winged one, bringing new life, was a gift from Palastya and the Jamadagnis. Prayers were made for the cows and sheep to remain unharmed, for the yoke not to be placed on grass or plough. Indra’s protection was sought in Pātalya, that he might ward off harm and join with his devotees. Strength was requested from Indra—for bodies, deeds, children, offspring, and life itself—for he is the giver of strength. The essence of the khadira tree was invoked for vigor, and the trembling śiṃśapā was to be made strong. The axle was asked to remain firm and steady, never to depart, and to drive away all harm. The forest tree was claimed as their own, with a wish that it neither harm nor injure. May it dwell in their homes with prosperity, and bring well-being at the time of release. Indra, with his excellent companions, was implored to grant the best of blessings that day. May those who hate the devotees be defeated, and may those whom the devotees hate be abandoned by their own breath. Even the axe burns, the knife cuts, and the oven, when kindled, foams up its contents—so powerful is Indra’s presence. Yet, people sometimes failed to notice the arrow, thinking themselves clever, and led the cattle astray. They did not match swift horses with the swift, nor did they lead donkeys ahead of horses. Among the sons of Bharata, there was ignorance of fatherhood and grandfatherhood. They harnessed horses for death, not for lasting endeavors, and led bow-fitted horses around in battle. A hymn, created for knowledge and praise of the great, was taken up. The noble hosts were called to listen, and Agni, eternal in the heavens, was invoked to hear. A great song was raised for heaven and earth, the desire for knowledge stirring within. The gods delighted in such praise at the rites, together with their companions. The truth of heaven and earth was wished to be firm, bringing prosperity. Homage was offered to both, with Agni as witness, in a quest for treasure. The ancient heavens, upholding truth, had expanded, their words always true. Even among men, in assemblies and contests for glory, earth was honored for her manifold wisdom. Yet, who truly knows, or can declare, to which god the right path leads? Among the gods, there are those of lowest and highest seats, some hidden in secret rites and vows. The sage with human sight beheld her, rejoicing in the womb of truth, spread out before him. The gods created diverse abodes, united in intention and understanding, like a weaver at his loom. Together and apart, far and near, the gods stood awake in their steadfast place. The sister goddesses, becoming young, spoke forth the names of the divine pairs. All these births were distinctly separated, each bearing the greatness of the gods, unshaken. The moving and the fixed, the flying and wandering, all were ruled by the one lord. Ever ancient, the poet approached the middle regions, born from the great father for the sake of his people. There, where the gods stood together as guides, on the broad path, both apart and within, he found his place. The hymn was proclaimed to heaven and earth, with Agni as their tongue. Mitra, Varuna, the Adityas, and the renowned sages were invoked to listen. Savitṛ, with golden hands and a beautiful tongue, three times descended from heaven, ruling in the assembly. Among the gods, he proclaimed the hymn, and the devotees asked for all-surpassing good. Tvaṣṭṛ, skillful and good-handed, self-praising and truth-abiding, was called upon for aid. Pūṣan and the Ṛbhus, who raised the stones upright at the sacrifice, were invited to rejoice. The Maruts, chariots flashing like lightning, armed with spears, sons of heaven and truth, were invoked, along with Sarasvatī, worthy of sacrifice. Dhātṛ was asked for swift wealth and strong heroes. Hymns and praises were dedicated to Viṣṇu, mighty in many ways, as workers seek a share from Bhaga. Viṣṇu, the wide-striding, ancient in his call, was beyond the reach of even the young mothers and creators. Indra, ruler with all powers, filled both heavens with his greatness. The destroyer of cities, slayer of Vṛtra, strong with his army, was asked to bring together abundant wealth. The Nāsatyas, the Aśvins, were invoked as fathers and kin, their beautiful names remembered. They were praised as givers of riches, guardians of gifts, unerring and undeceived. Thus, through worship, praise, and the seeking of blessings, the devotees honored the gods, hoping for strength, prosperity, and guidance in all the paths of life.