The story begins with the Sun, the radiant one, ever watchful and all-seeing. He turns his gaze towards the gatherings of the gods, towards the assemblies of men, and towards all that is to be seen. With his pure and shining eye, he beholds every person; even Varuṇa, the keeper of cosmic order, sees through him. The Sun traverses the vast sky, measuring its expanse with his rays and observing the births of all creatures. Seven bay steeds draw his chariot, carrying the god Sun, whose fiery hair blazes and whose vision encompasses all. The Sun, offspring of the chariot, has yoked seven shining mares; with these self-harnessed steeds, he journeys onward. Rising above darkness, we behold the higher light and reach the god among gods, the Sun, the supreme illumination. As he rises today, the Sun, friend of all, ascends the highest heaven. We pray to him: remove the disease from our hearts, and the yellow hue that afflicts us. Into white vessels, we place this yellow hue, and into vessels of turmeric, we lay it for ourselves, seeking healing. The Sun has risen with unconquerable might; let him drive away our adversaries, so that we do not fall under their power. Turning our praise, we exalt Indra, the ram, the much-invoked, the lord of wealth whose greatness cannot be encompassed, like the heavens themselves. Inspired ones sing his praises, for his might is supreme. Those eager for their own desires approach him, whose strength fills the midspace. The skillful mount Indra, the hundred-powered, stirred by delight. Indra chose the cows for the Angirases, opening the path for the far-dwelling and knowing the way. With his army, he brought wealth for Vimada, even making the stones dance for the eager one. He uncovered the coverings of the waters and let the streams flow on the mountain, slaying Vritra with his might and making the Sun ascend the sky for vision. By his powers, Indra cast down the cunning ones, shattered the strongholds of Pipru, and aided Rjishvan in slaying foes. He helped Kutsa defeat Shushna, subdued Shambara for Atithigva, and trampled the great Arbuda underfoot; from ancient times, Indra was born for the slaying of enemies. All powers unite in Indra, ever near. His bounty delights at the Soma offering; his thunderbolt, keen and set in his arms, strikes down the strength of his foes. He discerns Aryas and Dasyus, subdues the lawless for the sacrificer, and incites favor in gatherings. Indra subdues followers and non-followers alike, crushing the unsubmissive and sparing none, even the old; the humble slay the arrogant in his praise. When Ushanas forged the power that pervades heaven and earth, Indra’s strength conquered, and fame was brought to him by the mind of Vata’s son. The wisdom of Ushanas is most delightful, with which Indra stands above all, bending and surpassing. Fierce, he released the waters in contest, shattering the strongholds of Shushna. Indra stands upon the chariot among the strong-handed, where Sharyata’s gifts are offered for his delight. As he rejoices in the pressed Soma, he ascends to undiminished glory in heaven. He has given the young one to Kakshivat for the pressing, and was not deceived by Vrishanashva; all his deeds at the pressings are to be proclaimed. For Indra, the well-pressed Soma has been poured, and the hymn set forth in vessels, like a post at the sacrifice. Indra, yoked with horses, cows, chariots, and wealth, leads prosperity to the rite. Reverence is spoken for the Bull, lord of light, whose strength is true and power mighty. In this assembly, may we, with our heroes and generous patrons, remain under Indra’s protection. With splendid hymns, we praise Indra, the knower of light, with whom a hundred strong ones rejoice. Like a swift horse or prize-winning chariot, we turn to Indra for help with well-spoken words. He is like a mountain, unshaken in his foundations, with a thousand powers, grown in might. When Indra slew Vṛtra, who covered the rivers, he released the waters, exulting in Soma. Indra, best of defenders in battle, with a shining belly grown strong with exhilaration and wisdom, delights in Soma. Him, the greatest giver, we call with clear insight. The seats in heaven fill him like the ocean with riches; in slaying Vṛtra, the streams stood firm, and his unwearied might brought forth waters. At his exhilaration, the streams rushed forth as if down a steep slope, when Indra, bold with thunderbolt and Soma, broke open the barriers of Vala, as Trita did. His radiance moves around with heat, eager for battle; he reached the bottom of the atmosphere, conquering the waters. When Vṛtra descended, Indra struck down the thunder with difficult-to-hold weapons. The waves do not reach Indra, like a deep pool, for his praises increase him. Even Tvaṣṭṛ, with skill, increased Indra’s might, fashioning the overwhelming thunderbolt. Indra struck down Vṛtra with his steeds, making a path for man and releasing the waters. He bestowed the iron thunderbolt from his arms and held up the sun in the sky for sight. A great, shining hymn was made out of fear, as if climbing to the summit of heaven, when the Maruts, delighting in song, rejoiced with Indra, leader of men. Even the sky trembled at the roar of Indra’s thunder; when, in his exhilaration, he struck off the head of Vṛtra, bound with the strength of pressed Soma. When the earth with ten arms and all peoples stretched out, Indra’s renowned might became manifest, his power exalted to the sky. With his own power and bold mind, he crossed to the farthest end of the atmosphere and sky, made the earth a measure of his strength, encompassed the waters and the sun, and reached the heavens. Indra is the measure of the earth, lord of the lofty, mighty world; he has encompassed all the midspace in his greatness—truly, there is none like him. Neither heaven nor earth can reach his limit, nor rivers attain the end of his might; nor do streams in battle match him—he alone has accomplished all among men. In battle, the Maruts shouted, and all the gods rejoiced together with Indra, when by his blazing weapon, he struck down the retreat of Vṛtra. Now, let us bring forth speech for the great, raising songs to Indra in the house of the Sun. For even now, the treasure is found by those who seek it; among the givers of wealth, only the well-praised are praised. Thus, the story unfolds—the Sun rising and illuminating all, Indra conquering chaos and bestowing blessings, the gods and men united in reverent praise, seeking light, protection, and prosperity from these divine powers.