Longing for strength, mighty Indra sought out the invigorating Soma. At the sacred threefold pressing, he drank deeply of the pressed juice, filling himself with power. Thus fortified, the generous Indra seized his thunderbolt, his chosen weapon, and confronted the primordial serpent. With a mighty blow, he struck down Vṛtra, the firstborn of the serpents, shattering the cunning one’s magic. In that moment, the sun was born, and the dawn arose—light returning to the world. The enemy, bereft of power, no longer dared to challenge Indra. Indra’s thunderbolt, charged with immense force, struck Vṛtra, the great obstacle who had held back the world’s waters. With a blow as sharp as an axe felling branches, the serpent was cut apart and lay scattered upon the earth. Indra advanced like a fierce warrior, wild with pride and strength, unstoppable in battle. None could withstand his assault; he broke through all resistance and crushed his foe. Though Vṛtra fought without feet or hands, he stood against Indra, but the thunderbolt struck his shoulder, and his strength failed. The once-mighty serpent, desiring to be Indra’s equal, was cast down, his body scattered in many places. Like a broken dam, Vṛtra lay defeated, and the imprisoned waters, long held back by his might, flowed freely over him and onward. The serpent, now powerless, could no longer contain them. The lower part of Vṛtra became his offspring, while Indra struck down his upper part with the thunderbolt. The son, holding the sunlight, remained above, while Dānu, the mother, lay below like a cow with her calf. Among the fixed places, in the midst of the stakes, Vṛtra’s body was laid down, and the hidden part of him was surrounded by the waters. The enemy of Indra lay in deep darkness. The wives of the Dasa and the guardians of the serpent stood restrained, and the waters, like cows kept from the merchant, were withheld. When the secret opening of the waters was closed, Indra struck Vṛtra and released the flow. The flood, swift as a horse, surged forth when Indra alone confronted it. He conquered the cows and the treasures, released Soma, and sent the seven rivers to flow freely. No lightning, thunder, rain, or storm could oppose Indra as he battled the serpent. The generous one prevailed over his adversaries. Indra, see the path of the serpent you struck—how it entered your heart with fear. When the ninety-nine streams burst forth, you crossed the realms like a frightened eagle, traversing all the worlds. Indra, king of both the settled and the wild, advanced with the thunder-armed horned one. As king, he rules over all peoples; his enemies have vanished, and his wheel has encompassed all. With these praises, let us approach Indra, who increases our splendid bounty. May he, without deception, grant us wealth and reveal to us the sign of the cows. I have come to the generous and unfailing giver, as a falcon returns to its cherished home. Worshipping Indra with supreme hymns, I offer him praise, for he is ever worthy of invocation by the singers. The archer, with all his arrows ready, drives the cows for him whom he favors. When urged, Indra grants abundant gifts; let not the powerful merchant harm us. You struck down the wealthy enemy with your hammer, Indra, moving alone among your allies. You scattered their wealth, breaking it apart; the non-sacrificers, the ancient ones, met their doom. Even those who sought to surpass Indra, the non-sacrificers, were humbled by the sacrificers. When you, mighty one, stood firm in heaven, the lawless became the lowest among earth and sky. The blameless hosts, unwilling to fight, were driven away by the nine singers. Like a bull with weapons, Indra expelled the weak; proclaiming his name, the singers returned, rejoicing. Indra, you have overcome those who roared and devoured, those hostile beyond the realms. You cast down the Dasa from the sky; for those who press and praise, you bring glory. They circled the earth adorned with golden jewels, yet did not reach Indra; the sun’s rays were placed around him. When you, Indra, encompassed both heaven and earth with your greatness, those who thought themselves mighty were overcome, and you made the Dasa lowest among them. Those who did not reach the ends of heaven and earth, nor surrounded the giver of wealth with tricks, were outdone by Indra, the bull, who fashioned the thunderbolt and drove the cows out of darkness with light. The waters flowed according to their nature, increasing in the midst of the ships. With united mind and strongest force, Indra struck and conquered the heavens. He pierced the stronghold of Dilipa and broke the horned demon Shushna. As far as you are superior in strength, generous one, with the thunderbolt you slew the enemy, the challenger. The flame advanced against your enemies; with the sharp bull, you attacked the forts. Indra released the obstruction with the thunderbolt, and his inspired thought brought forth gifts. Indra, you brought Kutsa to us, and with him, the mighty bull Dashadyu, who fought valiantly in battle. The dust thrown up by their hooves did not reach the sky, and Ushvitra’s son stood firm for the conquest of men. You brought the bull Shama to us in the battles of the Tugras, O generous one, and the cow Shvitri for the contest over the field; even in broad daylight, they did not flee, and the defeated enemy, lying below, witnessed their loss. Now let us call upon the Ashvins. Let your three-wheeled chariot come today, O Ashvins, with your all-pervading power and generous bounty; for your chariot, like garments of frost, is approached by the wise with their prayers. Three swift steeds draw your honey-bearing chariot, following the melody of Soma, known to all; three pillars, firmly set at the beginning, support your journey as you travel three nights and three days, O Ashvins. On the same day, three times you come to the blameless offering, three times you wish to taste the sweet sacrifice; three times, O Ashvins, you pour out rich gifts for us at dawn and at the coming of the day. Three times you travel the circuit, three times among the faithful, three times you bestow excellent guidance; three times you bring delight, three times you pour forth streams for us as from an inexhaustible spring. Three times, O Ashvins, bring us wealth, wisdom, prosperity, and fame. May your chariot, drawn by the daughter of the Sun, come here. Three times, O Ashvins, bring us heavenly remedies, three times earthly ones, and three times those from the waters; bring nourishment and well-being for my son, and carry a threefold shelter, O lords of beauty. Three times, O Ashvins, may you be worshipped day by day; may you traverse the threefold earth. Three chariots, O Nasatyas, travel the distant paths, and like the wind your souls go to your sisters. Three times, O Ashvins, with the seven rivers and their mothers, three calls, threefold the offering prepared; three earths above flow forth, and you guard the summit of heaven with days and nights. Where are the three wheels of your triple chariot, where are the three seats that are firmly fixed? When will the union with the swift ass be, by which, O Nasatyas, you come to the sacrifice? Come, O Nasatyas, the offering is being called for you; drink the honey with your honey-loving asses, for your chariot, adorned with ghee, is sought by the dawns for the righteous one. Come, O Nasatyas, with three and eleven gods, come here, O Ashvins, to the honeyed drink. Carry us safely across, remove our sins, drive away hatred, and be our companions. Come near, O Ashvins, with your triple chariot, bring us wealth and heroic sons. Hearing our call for help, we invoke you—be our strength in the contest for the prize.