Let us recount the wondrous deeds and lordship of Indra, the mighty and wise. Day by day, the sun rises, shining upon vast dwellings, and it is Indra who has established these realms—what he upholds, none can diminish. Even now, Indra, you carve paths for the waters, leading them forth; the mountains, once steadfast like guests at a feast, trembled and shifted as you, wise one, opened the firm regions of the earth. There is none like you, Indra—no god nor mortal greater. You slew the serpent that lay in the waters, releasing the rivers to flow to the sea. You divided the waters, broke their barriers, and shattered the mountain's strength. You became king of the moving peoples, and together with them, you generated the sun, the sky, and the dawn. Indra alone is lord of wealth, master of riches, holding the peoples in his hands. In offspring, in waters, in sons, and in the sun, the peoples speak many words, all directed to him. Because of Indra's might, all things on earth, even those that seem immovable, tremble. The realms of heaven and earth, the mountains and forests—all that is firm fears his birth. With Kutsa, Indra fought against Shushna and Kuyava, striving for the cows; for ten generations, he divided the treasures of the sun and shattered the fortresses of thieves. He destroyed hundreds of forts of Shambara, the unconquerable Dasyu, and with his power brought riches to Divodāsa, who presses Soma, and to Bharadvāja, who sings his praise. O mighty Indra, of true strength, mount your chariot for great battle. Come with new riches to our aid and make our praises heard among the peoples. For the most powerful, heroic, thunderbolt-wielding Virapśin, we fashion new and pleasing words, honoring the ancient one. Praised alongside the sun and the mother of the wise, Indra broke open the mountain, rejoicing with his own songs, and released the cows from their dwellings. Ever victorious with fires and hymns, with those who know the measure, Indra accomplished many deeds. With friends, he shattered strongholds, wise among the wise. With bands of heroes, Indra, bull among men, approaches the singer with great prizes and strength, loving songs and bringing good fortune. With his rush and might, Indra, marked by power, drove away foes from the south. Ever sending forth, his followers sought unassailable wealth, day by day, unwearied. O Indra, strongest one, grant us your strength, generous bull and giver of desired gifts. May he, rich in horses and victorious in battles, overcome enemies and foes. For you, Indra, the peoples call in rivalry, seeking help in contests for prizes; you, with the wise, scatter the Panis and win the prize with your swift aid. Indra has slain enemies—Dasyus, Vritras, and even the noble ones. With sharpened weapons, he strikes down foes and sees the best of men in battle. Indra, with unfailing aid, be our friend and protector of all life, granting increase. When we call upon you for sunlight, O hero, we do not falter in battle. Now, Indra, may you be gracious and helpful to us and our descendants. Thus, praising you, may we dwell in the shelter of your greatness, in the highest heaven, rich in cows. To you, Indra, many songs have gathered, many thoughts have come, O mighty one. Ancient and new, the seers’ praises compete in hymns addressed to you. Much-invoked and glorified, Indra is praised by many sacrifices, yoked like a chariot for great power. Hymns and words do not harm Indra, but rather they increase him. Even if hundreds or thousands of singers praise the song-loving one, all is for him. For Indra, I bring forth Soma with a shining hymn, as if measuring out the months, like a man seeking water in a desert, when offerings and sacrifices have grown strong. For mighty Indra, I have spoken this praise, this hymn from my thoughts. Just as he, the great slayer of obstacles, is present, Indra is protector of all life and ever-growing. O bounteous one, when will you grant enduring wealth of chariots, the thousandfold prosperity in response to our hymn? When will you, with your riches, make our praise fruitful and bestow thoughts rich in prizes? When, Indra, will you bring victory among men and heroes? On the threefold earth, may you win glory among the cows; grant us shining fame and light. When will you perform the all-encompassing act of strength for the worshipper, accept our thoughts and helpers, and come to offerings rich in cows? Bestow wealth rich in cows, horses, and glory, O Indra, and place nourishing treasures with the Bharadvājas; make the shining, ever-yielding cow flourish among them. May that mighty one, even if opposed, not abandon us when you, heroic one, have readied your weapon; do not leave the Angirases without the milk of the bright-yielding cow—win with prayer. Indra’s exhilarations are all-creating, his riches are all earthly; he is the universal distributor of prizes, upholding his divine power among the gods. All people seek his strength, all grasp his might for heroism; in every house and for the swift, they choose wisdom, even for the slaying of Vṛtra. To Indra, united helpers bring manly deeds and heroic powers; hymns flow toward him like rivers to the ocean, his expanse wide. He sends forth desire for wealth to the singer, lord of radiant treasure, unrivaled master of peoples, sole king of all the world. So listen, Indra, as heaven and earth listen to the noble one; act with your power for us as you have before, wise in every age. Let your harnessed bays bring you here, Indra, chosen by all; even the poor call upon you, bringer of light—we would share your feast today. The bays have come to the vessel, deeds are accomplished, pure and straight; may Indra, ancient and strong, the king of Soma exhilaration, drink of this. Well-yoked horses, eager for strength, approach Indra, and well-made chariots follow; let the straight ones carry fame, and may the immortal one of wind not be left behind. Indra, most generous, directs the right hand of the bountiful; with your bolt, you drive away distress and grant riches to the generous. Indra is giver of enduring strength; may he, great in might, be increased by our songs. May Indra, slayer of Vṛtra, be victorious—thus the generous one fills the eager. He has set forth, and the most brilliant dawns have arisen; Indra has brought great and glorious praise. The bountiful one seeks wise intention, the divine path, and the gift of the generous man.