Indra, the mighty bull, stands radiant and exhilarated, his heart stirred by the praise and hymns of those who honor him. He delights in the Soma, eagerly drinking the pressed juice, basking in the adoration of men. Known as Maghavan, the generous one, Indra is glorified among mortals with song, a king of heaven whose strength never fails, who is the unwavering support of all who sing his praises. As the active hero, noble and wise, Indra hears every invocation and spreads his protection wide. He is the giver of wealth, renowned for his deeds, the bestower of strength who, when praised in the assembly, grants the sought-after prize. Like the axle of a great chariot, his greatness extends across both worlds; his many aids reach outward like the branches of a vast tree, ever expanding. Indra’s powers, strong and full, move like streams of cows, spreading far and wide. Like the cords that bind calves, his might is strong, unbroken, and secure, for he is ever generous. Each day brings new actions, for Indra acts swiftly at every moment. May Mitra, Varuṇa, Pūṣan, and Aryaman watch over our wealth, keeping it safe. Through Indra, the waters are set in motion, flowing from the mountain’s summit, inspired by hymns and sacrifices. Well-praised songs speed like horses to the contest, for Indra, beloved of the singers, is their champion. Neither years nor months wear him down; neither heaven nor earth can diminish his power. Even as he ages, his body grows stronger, and he remains worthy of celebration through hymns and songs. Indra bows to neither the weak nor the strong, nor does he yield to the praise of enemies. Even the immovable mountains tremble before him; in the deepest places, Indra finds a path. With his deep and wide might, he drives forward the prizes, smashing foes and drinking Soma. At dawn and at night’s breaking, he stands upright with his protection, undefeated and vigilant for our safety. We call upon him to come to our aid, to protect us from harm wherever we are—at home or in the wilderness. With a hundred powers, may we live bravely under his watch. Whatever help is nearest, farthest, or in between, Indra, with all your strength, come to our aid in the slaying of Vṛtra, bringing us your great prizes. With these powers, drive away the hostile and opposing forces, shatter the wrath of our foes, overcome all hostile hosts, scatter the Dasyus, and bring the Arya people across safely. Whether they are kin or not, near or far, the envious have united against us, but you, Indra, break their strength and turn them away. The strong conquers the strong with his own body and acts with his own might. Whether among children, cattle, offspring, or in the waters, Indra makes both worlds resound and speaks in the fields. No strong man, swift one, bold one, or self-proclaimed warrior has ever conquered Indra; none can withstand him, for he surpasses all who are born. When the wise call upon him in assembly, he falls upon both sides. Whether in the slaying of Vṛtra, in great battle, or in the gathering of men, when division arises, Indra stretches them apart. When Indra comes, the peoples rejoice; he is their protector and guardian. May the most truthful, noble, and wise place our leaders in front. All Indra’s powers are given for his greatness; all is for him in the slaying of Vṛtra. His strength, his might, his worship, and his heroism are with him and the gods. Thus, Indra, bring us victory over our rivals in every contest. May the goddesses, in their mutual striving, be satisfied. May we, the Bharadvājas, through our praise, know the wealth granted by your favor, O Indra, even now. Hear us, Indra, as we call upon you, eager for the great prize of strength. When the peoples assemble for the hero’s reward, grant us your protection on this day. The prize-seeker calls upon you, Indra, for the desirable reward; in battles with the Vṛtras, you are the true lord, the mighty one, and in the struggle for cattle, the fist-fighter seeks your aid. You inspire the poet in the quest for praise. For Kutsa, you struck down Śuṣṇa for the worshipper. You struck off the head of the lifeless one, performing a worthy deed for Atithigva. You bring forth the chariot, the high warrior, and the fighting bull, Daśadyu, to battle. You aided Tugra for Vetasu, and you, Indra, protect Tuji, the singer, from harm. It was you, Indra, who saw the thousands of gifts offered in praise with your strength. You struck down the Dāsa Śambara from the mountain and brought splendid aid to Divodāsa. With faith and pressed Soma, you delighted and destroyed Cumuri for our safety. You shattered Raji, granting favor, and with your power, struck down sixty thousand together. May I, too, with the wise, attain your favor, Indra—your greater benevolence and strength. For those heroes who praise you, most mighty one, you grant triple protection, O descendant of Nahusha. May we, in this invocation for glory, be your friends, most honored by your greatness. May Prātardana possess the best royal splendor, foremost in battle, winner of wealth among the Vṛtras. What has Indra done for the joy of this drink, for the drinking, for the friendship it brings? What of those who sit in council or in battle—did they know him before, or only now? It is for the joy, the drinking, the friendship of this, that Indra acts. Whether in council or in battle, those who sit with him—did they know him before, or only now? Truly, we do not know the full greatness of your might, O generous one, nor your bounty. Of your new and old gifts, Indra, no one has seen the limit of your power. This is your renowned power, Indra, by which you slew the remnant of Varaśikha. Even from your thunderbolt, when it struck, a mighty sound split the farthest part. Indra pursued and slew the remnant of Varaśikha, striking down the returning and resisting one. In the battle at Hariyūpīyā for Vṛcīvant, he struck down the foremost half in fear. Three hundred armored ones at Yavyāvat fell under Indra’s arrow, breaking their bowls and coming to rest. He whose cows, reddish and of good yield, wander restlessly within—he, for Sṛñjaya, gave Turvaśa away, and for Vṛcīvant, striving for Daivavāta. Twice twenty chariot-fighters with cows and brides, the generous lord, the sovereign, gave to me. The returning and resisting one gives; this is the gift of the Parthavas, the southern share. The cows have come, bringing good fortune; let them settle in the stable and bellow for us. Let them be fruitful, of many forms, yielding abundant milk for Indra at every dawn. Indra provides for the sacrificer and the generous, giving freely and never withholding his own. Again and again, he increases their wealth, placing god-loved treasure in the unbroken store. These cows are not lost; the thief does not harm them, nor does any enemy overpower them. With these, the gods are worshipped and gifts are given; the lord of cattle prospers together with them. Neither the near nor the far-off predator reaches them, nor do they fall into the hands of those who set traps. They follow the wide-ranging, fearless one—the sacrificing mortal—whose cows roam freely. Cows are fortune; cows are Indra for me. Cows are the first portion of Soma. These cows, O people, are Indra himself; with heart and mind, I desire Indra.