Indra, mighty and far-seeing, you are called to drink the Soma for which you were born—drink for delight, for power, as you always have. The cows, the men, the waters, and even the mountains themselves have brought forth this Soma, prepared solely for you to enjoy. When the sacred fire is kindled and the Soma has been pressed, may your finest horses swiftly bring you to us. With devotion in our hearts, we call upon you, Indra—come for our great welfare and blessing. Come with unwavering longing and a vast mind to partake of this Soma. Listen to our hymns, and let the sacrifice renew your strength. Wherever you reside—be it in the heavenly realm, in the path of righteousness, or in your own divine abode—come, Indra, to our sacrifice. Bring your companions, the Maruts, and drink with us, O Singer. Come without hindrance to our offering, for these Soma juices have been purified for you. Like cows returning home, come, O wielder of the thunderbolt, and be the foremost among those worthy of sacrifice. Drink with the vessel made for you by Kakutstha, the best vessel, the one you always use to drink the honeyed wave. The priest has set it before you; let your thunderbolt be ready for the cows. This drop of Soma, the bull of all forms, has been prepared for you, O mighty Indra. Drink, O golden one, steadfast and fierce, for whose sustenance you long in the highest heaven. The Soma is pressed for your delight, and this one is best for the wise in battle. Come, Titirva, approach the sacrifice, and with this Soma, fill all the powerful. We call upon you, Indra—come near. Let this Soma become strength for your body. O hundred-powered one, rejoice in the pressings and grant us victory in battles and among the peoples. Bring everything to him who desires to drink, who knows all things, for his approach and journey—bring it for the one who comes from afar, for the eager one. With these Somas, approach the drinker of Soma; with the pressed and pure juices, come, Indra the victorious, with the extracted drops. When you adorn him with the pressed Soma drops, the wise one knows all; the bold, woven thread seeks him out. For him, O Adhvaryu, bring forth the pressed Soma—perhaps, through the might of this powerful conqueror, we shall overcome the attacks of our enemies. By the exhilaration you found in Soma, you broke Śambara for Divodāsa, O Indra—this Soma is pressed for you, so drink. By the strong exhilaration of the pressed Soma, you protected the middle and the end—this Soma is pressed for you, so drink. By your exhilaration among the cows, you released the firm ones from the stone—this Soma is pressed for you, so drink. By your joy in Soma, you bore mighty power for the generous—this Soma is pressed for you, so drink. You, Indra, are the most bountiful of riches, endowed with the greatest glory—this pressed Soma is your exhilaration, Lord of power. You are the most liberal, the most abundantly generous, the giver of wealth and wisdom—this pressed Soma is your exhilaration, Lord of power. By you, the strong are never overcome, nor the swift by their own means—this pressed Soma is your exhilaration, Lord of power. I praise that unconquered lord of might for you, Indra—the all-powerful, the greatest, the universal protector. You, whom the hymns magnify, the lord of abundant gifts, are honored by the two divine worlds, the goddesses, for your strength. I spread out this seat of praise for Indra, like rivers whose waves rush forth, where the dwellers move apart. Mitra, ever new, discovered skill; by drinking, he became the most generous among the gods. With the Taulā and Dhautari hymns, he became a wide protector for his friends. On the path of truth, the wise one drank; for glory, the gods shaped their minds. Bearing the name of greatness, with words they fashioned a shining form for vision, the weaver. Bestow upon us radiant skill, Indra; drive away the ancient hostilities of men. Make our lives longer with your powers, grant us wealth, and be ever mindful of us. For you alone, O bountiful Indra, we have not failed in giving; do not abandon us, O wielder of the tawny steeds. No one among mortals has been as generous as you—how could anyone call you reluctant to give? Do not, O bull, turn away from us in your thunder; do not let us lose your friendship, O radiant one. Grant us your ancient and new favors among people; drive away the hostile, and uplift those who praise you. Like thunder rising from the clouds, Indra brings forth wealth of horses and cattle. You are the giver from the heavens, O singer; let none who seeks your gifts be disappointed. O sacrificer, hero, bring forth the pressed offerings for Indra, for he is their lord, grown strong through both ancient and new praises, through the songs of chanting sages. Knowing many forms through his exhilaration, Indra has slain his foes without resistance. Offer him the honeyed Soma, for the hero with the tuft, so that he may drink. Let Indra drink the pressed Soma, let him slay the foe with his thunderbolt, rejoicing. Let him come to the sacrifice, even from afar, as the benefactor, the protector of thoughts, the guardian of the singer. This vessel is for Indra’s drinking—the beloved, immortal drink has been consumed. May it bring joy to the god and drive away hatred and enmity from us. Rejoicing in this, O hero, strike down your enemies; destroy the hostile and the unfriendly. With your force, attack those who oppose, O Indra, and utterly defeat them. O bountiful Indra, fight for us; grant us a great and easy path. Defeat the enemies of our water, our offspring, and descendants; make us lords and secure our share. Your stallions, harnessed and mighty, your chariots with strong reins, are ready. Let them bring you, O thunder-bearer, for our delight, well-yoked, to us who praise you. Your mighty ones have come to your vessel, O bull, delighting in butter and honey. For you, Indra, the bulls bring the pressed Soma to drink. You are the bull of heaven, the bull of earth, the bull of rivers, the bull of women. For the mighty one, the Soma has swelled—the sweet juice, fit for the best, for drinking. This god, born in strength, with Indra as his ally, has overcome the demon; he has taken up the weapons of his own father, and the Soma has burned away the magic of the evil one. This one has made the dawns good wives, has placed light within the sun, and in the three regions of heaven, in the shining places, has found the hidden nectar.