For the one who calls out, “Let us press Soma for Indra,” Agni, the Bharata, grants his protection, so that the devotee may see the rising sun clearly. This man, heroic and noble, stands apart: neither the many nor the few surpass him. For him, wide Aditi herself grants shelter. He is dear to those who do good, dear to Indra, mindful and well-guided; his devotion in pressing Soma is cherished. The well-guided, swift, and strong man prepares the offering for Indra alone, quickly and surely. But for the ill-guided, there is neither helper nor friend nor kinsman; voiceless and lacking guidance, he is carried away. Indra, the mighty Soma-drinker, does not befriend the wealthy Paṇi or those who neglect the Soma ritual. His wisdom grieves and he strikes down the naked one; for the well-guided, Indra alone readies the portion. Indra is invoked by all—those who came before, those who follow, and those who stand in the middle. Those seeking help, those settled, those battling, all call upon Indra; men yearning for victory turn to him. “I am Manu, I am Sūrya; I am Kakṣīvat, the inspired sage,” declares the poet. “I have guided Kutsa, son of Arjuna; I am Uśanā. Look upon me.” He gave the earth to the Arya, granted rain to the worshipful mortal, led forth the eager waters, and the gods followed his guidance. He destroyed the cities of the arrogant, and together with ninety strongholds of Śambara, he overthrew the hundredth, all for Divodāsa and Atithigva. Let the hero’s strength go forth for the Maruts; let the falcon, swiftest among birds, take flight. When the eagle, by its own power, brought the offering beloved by the gods to Manu, if the strong and wise one brings it, let him carry the offering along the broad path, swift as thought. He went with Soma’s honey; here the falcon won fame. The straight-flying falcon brought the Soma, delightful and exhilarating, from afar. The bird held fast and carried the god-invoked Soma from the highest heaven. Having brought it, the falcon carried a thousand jars, and ten thousand together. Here, the wise woman drove away the enemies; in the joy of Soma, even the foolish became wise. Even while still in the womb, the poet came to know all the births of the gods. Though protected by a hundred iron fortresses, the swift falcon carried him away. Not for a moment did the falcon bear enmity; with his own strength, he overcame the hostile ones. The wise woman stayed true to her resolve, and the eager wind moved swiftly. When the falcon descended, the horses neighed; whether the wind carried the wise woman across the sky or she freed herself, the falcon let fly the bowstring, his mind intent and eager. With the speed of a racing horse, the falcon bore Bhujyu, son of Tugra, from the vast expanse; within the flight of the triple-winged one, in the path of the swift, he carried him to safety. Then Maghavan poured the pure, white Soma mixed with milk into the shining vessel; with the priests, prepared and foremost of the sweet drink, Indra the hero set it forth to drink for his exhilaration. With Soma as ally, Indra, for Manu, cleaved the waters; he slew the serpent, released the seven rivers, and opened the closed channels as if uncovering hidden ways. With Soma as ally, Indra struck down the wheel of the sun with a single blow; with vast might, he set in motion the great course, removing all obstacles from the path. Indra struck, Agni burned, and Soma flowed; in ancient times, at midday, they defeated the Dasyus in battle. In stronghold and dwelling, with wisdom, they advanced, and the mighty ones cast down thousands of enemies. From every side, Indra scattered the Dasyus, making the Dasa peoples insignificant; he subdued, destroyed, and struck down the enemies, gaining renown by his weapons. Thus, Indra and Soma, generous ones, made the wide expanse rich in horses and cattle; they broke open what was closed, released the waters, and the fields became abundant. O Indra, come to us, praised, with your steeds, delighting in Soma, for the contest; even from afar, you reach the many offerings, true benefactor, praised with songs. The wise man comes, summoned by the offerers, to the sacrifice; confident in his horses, he rejoices with the eager and delights among heroes. Let him make his ears attentive for the prize, to gladden the beloved direction; raising his voice for wealth, mighty Indra, making the paths easy and fearless. He who comes to the singer, not neglecting the call, comes to the inspired one, praised and invoked; placing at his side swift horses, Indra of the thunderbolt, hundreds and thousands. With your help, O generous Indra, may we, the inspired ones, be your praisers; sharing in the great wealth of the broad sky, gaining the abundant, much-desired treasure. No one, Indra, is superior or greater than you, slayer of Vṛtra; no one at all is like you. All peoples together turn to you, as spokes to the wheel’s hub; together you are renowned as great. Even all the gods contended with you, Indra, when you surpassed the night with the day. Where the wheel fights for Kutsa, embattled, there, Indra, you stole away the sun. Where, for the gods in distress, you alone, Indra, conquered all the hosts of enemies. Where, for the mortal seeking to slay, Indra, with your powers, you brought forth the sun’s steed. Why, O slayer of Vṛtra, O bountiful one, are you so full of wrath? Here, the demon’s mother lies slain. This heroic deed, this manly act, Indra, you performed: when you struck down the difficult-to-subdue daughter of the sky. Even the daughter of the sky, great and honored, Indra, you crushed, O bringer-together. She, terrified, fled from her crushed chariot when the bull yoked her down at the ford. There lies her chariot, well-crushed, in the waters of Vipāś; she ran to the distant shore. And you, Indra, split the river Vi-bālya, standing upon the earth, surrounding it with your magic. With might, you attacked the stronghold of Śuṣṇa, shattering his fortresses, O crusher. Thus, the story unfolds: the faithful, guided by wisdom, invoke Indra and press Soma, receiving protection and abundance; the mighty acts of gods, falcon, and heroes shape the world, overcoming darkness, enemies, and obstacles, so that the rivers run free, the fields flourish, and the people honor Indra, the greatest among gods.