All people, from every walk of life, have sought Indra’s strength. They have reached out for his might, longing for heroism and victory. Whether in the humble house of the weaver or among the swift and daring, all choose wisdom, seeking Indra’s power even for the great deed of slaying Vṛtra. To Indra, the united helpers bring their manly deeds and heroic powers. Just as countless rivers flow together into the vast ocean, so do hymns and prayers, surging with force, flow toward Indra, whose greatness knows no bounds. Indra, you send forth the desire for wealth to the singer; you are the lord of radiant treasures. You have become the unrivaled master of peoples, the sole king over all the world. Therefore, listen with your divine hearing, O Indra, you who are invoked by so many, just as heaven and earth listen to the noble one. May you, acting with your timeless power, do for us as you have done before, for you are wise in every age. Let your chariot, drawn by harnessed bays, bring you here, Indra, for you are chosen by all. Even the poor man calls upon you, O bringer of light, and today we wish to share in your feast. The bay steeds have arrived at the sacred vessel, and the deeds are accomplished—they have become pure and direct. May Indra, the ancient and strong king, drink of this Soma, the exhilarating draught. The well-yoked horses, eager for strength, draw near to Indra, pulling the well-made chariots. Let the righteous ones carry forth your fame, even now, and may the immortal one of the wind not be left behind. Indra, most generous, guides the right hand of the bountiful. With your thunderbolt, you drive away distress, and, bold one, you grant riches to the generous. Indra is the giver of enduring strength; may he, great in might, be increased by our songs. May Indra, the slayer of Vṛtra, be victorious—thus the generous one fills the eager with his gifts. Indra sets forth, and the most brilliant dawns arise. He brings great and glorious praise. The bountiful one seeks wise intentions, the divine path, and the gifts of the generous. From afar, the ears of him who dwells resound to the thunderous voice of Indra, proclaiming aloud. This invocation of the gods turns toward Indra; even the Madra woman sings her hymn to him. With highest thought, we approach that ageless Indra, ancient from time immemorial, with our hymns. Sacred utterances and songs are placed in him, and great praise grows upon Indra. The sacrifice increases him, as does the Soma. The sacred chant, the songs, the hymns, and my words all increase Indra’s greatness. The dawns, the paths of night, the months, the years, and the heavens themselves increase him. Thus, I praise the one born for strength, exalted for generosity and fame. O mighty, fierce one, for protection, O sage, let us call upon you now in our battles against the foe. Of the delightful poet, the heavenly fire, the sage, the mind, the speech, and the honeyed words—grant us the favor of that divine companion, O youthful one, for the singer who seeks the cows. He shines, circling the mountains and dawns, his thoughts yoked to truth and righteousness. He breaks the rugged ridge, the summit of the vale; Indra attacks the Panis with his words. Radiant, he illuminates night and day, the seasons, and all times—Indra, the shining one. Even now, they have placed this sign for the days; born pure, he has fashioned the dawns. He brightens all with his light, shining with radiance, filling the ancient ones with truth. He moves with horses yoked to righteousness, knowing the sun; the leaders travel at the navel of the world. Now, the singer praises you, ancient king; enrich the former treasures for the giver of wealth. Remove the herbs, the forests, the cows, the horses, the men—grant them for our delight. Indra, drink the Soma pressed for you, for delight; let your steeds be released for companionship. Come, sing, gather, sit with the hosts; come to the sacrifice, accept our praise and vigor. Drink of this, Indra, for which you were born—for delight, for power. You have drunk, O wide-seeing one. To you, the cows, the men, the waters, the mountains, all have brought Soma for you alone to drink. When the fire is kindled and the Soma pressed, let your finest horses bring you here, Indra. With devoted mind, I call to you—come for our great welfare and blessing. Come, Indra, with constant longing and a great mind, to drink the Soma. Listen to these hymns of ours; let the sacrifice grant vigor to your body. Wherever you dwell, Indra—in the heavenly realm, in righteousness, or in your own abode—come here for our sacrifice. Bring your companions, drink, O singer, with the Maruts. Without hindrance, come to the sacrifice, for you the Soma juices are purified. Like cows returning home, O wielder of the thunderbolt, come, Indra, be the foremost among those worthy of sacrifice. With that which is made for you by Kakutstha, with the best, with which you always drink the wave of honey—drink with it. The priest has placed it before you; let your thunderbolt, Indra, be ready for the cows. This drop, the bull of all forms, Soma has been prepared for you, O mighty Indra. Drink this, O golden one, steadfast and fierce, whose food you desire in the highest heaven. The Soma is pressed, O Indra, for your delight; this one is better for the wise in battle. Come, Titirva, approach the sacrifice, and with it fill all the powerful ones. We call upon you, Indra, come near; let this Soma be strength for your body. O hundred-powered one, rejoice in the pressings; may you bring us victory in battles and among the peoples. Bring to him who desires to drink, who knows all things, everything for his approach and journey; for the man who comes from afar, for the one who is eager. With these Somas, approach him, the drinker of Soma; with the pressed juices, with the pure ones, Indra the victorious, with the extracted drops. When you adorn him with the pressed drops, with the Somas, the wise one knows all; the bold one, the woven thread, seeks him. For him, O Adhvaryu, bring forth the pressed Soma; perhaps through the might of this powerful, conquering one, we shall overcome the attack of the hostile. By whose exhilaration you broke Śambara for Divodāsa, this Soma, O Indra, is pressed for you—drink. By whose strong, pressed exhilaration you protected the middle and the end, this Soma, O Indra, is pressed for you—drink. By whose exhilaration among the cows you released the firm ones from the stone, this Soma, O Indra, is pressed for you—drink. By whose joy in the Soma you bore mighty power for the generous one, this Soma, O Indra, is pressed for you—drink. He who is the most bountiful of riches, who is most endowed with glory—this pressed Soma, O Indra, is your exhilaration, Lord of power. He who is most liberal, most abundantly generous, the giver of wealth and wisdom—this pressed Soma, O Indra, is your exhilaration, Lord of power. By whom the strong is not overcome, nor the swift by their own aids—this pressed Soma, O Indra, is your exhilaration, Lord of power.