O Indra and Soma, the great and powerful, hear the fervent call of your devotee. Turn your enmity, I pray, against those who proclaim evil, whose nature is fierce and consuming like fire, who despise prayer and act with malice and lawlessness, who are flesh-eaters with terrible eyes, deceitful and hostile to all that is sacred. Upon such beings, let your wrath descend. Cast these evildoers, O Indra and Soma, into the deepest pit, into a darkness without support, so that not one of them may ever rise again. Let your power and fury be directed to their utter downfall. Bring down, O mighty ones, the bolt of heaven and the destruction that comes from the earth as punishment for those who speak evil. Lift up the heavenly radiance from the mountains, just as you once destroyed the swelling demon with your shining might. Let the stone of the sky fall, O Indra and Soma, with your fire-heated, stone-breaking weapons. With your deadly, ageless, and sharp arms, strike down those who act with malice and deceit. Let them be sent into silence, never to trouble the righteous again. May this prayer of mine, O lords, surround you on all sides like a swift horse in the racecourse. Accept my offering as priests accept a sacrifice. Like generous kings, grant us wisdom and reward these hymns with your favor. Remember always, with your victorious weapons, to strike down the treacherous, the demons, and those who break the sacred order. O Indra and Soma, let not the evildoer find an easy path; may he never bring harm upon us. Whoever looks upon me with an evil mind, or speaks false words, trying to ensnare me as one tries to hold water in a sieve—let that one be left behind, O Indra, rendered speechless and powerless. Those who delight in evil speech or corrupt the good through their own nature—may Soma deliver them to the serpent, or let them fall into utter ruin. Whoever seeks to harm our nourishment, our sacred drink, our horses, cattle, or people—be he enemy, thief, or robber—let him perish, O Agni, let him and his offspring be destroyed. Let such a one be far removed in body and lineage, cast beneath all three worlds. Let his fame wither, O gods, whoever seeks to harm us by day or by night. For the wise, the difference between truth and falsehood is clear. Of the two words that contend, the true and the strong—Soma protects the speaker of truth and destroys the false. Soma never harms the innocent, nor the warrior who upholds justice. He destroys the demon and the liar; both are laid low under Indra’s might. Even if I have erred, O gods, or been useless in your sight, O Agni, knower of all births, hold nothing against us. Let those who speak deceit join with ruin, not the innocent. If today I am truly a sorcerer, or if I have harmed another, then let me be separated from my companions, parted tenfold from my people. But whoever falsely calls me a sorcerer, let that fate be his. Whoever accuses me of sorcery, or claims purity while being a demon—may Indra strike him down with a mighty blow and cast him to the lowest place among all creatures. She who moves by night like a hyena, hiding her form for treachery—let her be cast into endless pits, let the stones strike the demon with their force. Rise up, O Maruts, scatter the foes, seize and crush the demons—those who fly by night like birds, or those who, as enemies, take their place at the sacrifice. Roll down the stone of heaven, O Indra, generous one, sharpened by Soma. From east, from west, from below, from above—strike the demons with the mountain. These very ones, with jaws like dogs, attack and seek to assail even Indra, eager to strike the blameless. O Shakra, sharpen your weapon against the slanderers; now release the thunderbolt against the sorcerers. Indra became the destroyer of sorcerers for Parashara, driving away those who disturbed the sacrifice. Shakra struck down the demons, as an axe fells a forest, as a vessel splits apart—so he goes against the fiends. Strike down the owl-demon, the screech-owl demon, the dog-jawed demon, the cuckoo-demon; the eagle-demon and the vulture-demon—destroy them utterly, O Indra, and protect us. Let not the demon, the sorcerer, nor the pair who are joined in evil, nor the one who is like a worm, overpower us. May the earth protect us from harm below, and the midspace and sky from dangers above. Indra, strike down the male sorcerer and the woman who, with deceit, brings harm. Let the neck-twisting, root-devouring demons perish; may they not see you when the sun rises. Look forth in all directions, O Indra and Soma, be ever watchful! Hurl destruction upon the demons, unleash the thunderbolt upon the sorcerers. Now, friends, speak of nothing else—do not falter. Praise only Indra, the mighty one, as the Soma is pressed; again and again, let hymns of praise be sung. Like a powerful bull, unrestrained, like a cow enduring the people, he removes hatred, unites, and conquers both sides—the greatest of all. Even if many others call upon you for help in different ways, O Indra, let this prayer be for you; may it bring you all increase today. The wise, generous Indra surpasses all men. Approach us with your many forms, bring us the nearest prize for our aid. Not even for a great price, O stone-splitter, would I give you away—not for a thousand, not for ten thousand, O wielder of the bolt; not for a hundred, nor for hundreds of gifts. You are generous, Indra, to me, to my father and brother who have partaken of your gifts; and you, Wealth-giver, have sheltered my mother as well, for the sake of wealth and favor. Where are you, Indra? Where do you dwell? Your mind is indeed in many places. You have rushed forth, O fighter, breaker of forts; you have gone forth, O singer, with the Gayatri. Sing the Gayatri for him, praise the generous one, the breaker of forts, by whom the Kanva’s seat was approached, by whom, armed with the bolt, the cities were shattered. With your ten-yoked, your hundred-yoked, your thousand-yoked steeds—those mighty, swift horses—come to us, O Indra, praised by us. Today I call upon you, O Indra, as one calls a cow with abundant milk—for the Gayatra meter, for the flowing Soma. I seek you, O cow of good milk, for abundant nourishment and overflowing bounty. When the demon, the sun, Etaśa, or the crooked one with the leaf of the wind, carried Kutsa, the son of Arjuna, it was the hundred-powered Indra who rescued the Gandharva from distress. He who, even without help, protected the ancient ones from harm at their joints—the generous lord of many—will again make the scattered whole. Let us not become, O Indra, like those cast aside, nor like those without shelter. O Thunderer, may we not be as forests abandoned, nor as mornings devoid of hope. We have found no want here, nor destruction, O Slayer of Vṛtra. With your great bounty, O mighty one, may we once more gladden you with our praise. If my praise, O Indra, is worthy of your hearing, let the swift streams, having crossed the filter, rejoice you, O increaser of strength. Come today, O friend, to this assembly; let the praise of the generous reach you. For you I prepare this excellent hymn of praise. And so, in reverence and hope, the devotee calls upon Indra and Soma—champions of truth, destroyers of evil, givers of bounty and shelter—to protect, reward, and bless all who sing their praise with sincerity.