Indra, mighty among the gods, stood apart in his greatness, untouched by the rushing waves of the world, like the stillness of a deep pool. His strength grew with every hymn sung in his honor, for his praises nourished and increased him. Even Tvaṣṭṛ, the divine craftsman, skillfully fashioned Indra’s thunderbolt, a weapon of overwhelming power, further magnifying his might. With his swift steeds, Indra struck down Vṛtra, the great adversary, clearing a path for humanity and releasing the imprisoned waters. From his own arms, he cast forth the iron thunderbolt, and with his strength, he upheld the sun in the heavens for all to see. Out of awe and reverence, the sages composed a shining hymn, as if ascending to the summit of heaven itself. The Maruts, the storm gods, delighted in their songs and rejoiced with Indra, the leader of men. The very sky trembled at the sound of Indra’s thunder, quaking with fear at the roar of his thunderbolt. In his exhilaration, fueled by the sacred Soma, Indra struck off the head of the bound Vṛtra, displaying his supreme might. When the earth, with her ten regions and all her peoples, stretched out before him, Indra’s renowned power became manifest for all to witness, his strength exalted to the very sky. By his own boldness and power, Indra traversed the farthest reaches of the atmosphere and the heavens, making the earth a measure of his strength. He encompassed the waters and the sun, reaching even to the heights of heaven itself. Indra stood as the measure of the earth, lord of the lofty, mighty world. In his greatness, he encompassed all the midspace, and truly, there was none like him. Neither heaven nor earth could reach the limits of his might, nor could the rivers find the end of his power. In battle, no stream could match him in his exhilaration—he alone accomplished all among men. In those battles, the Maruts shouted in triumph, and all the gods rejoiced together with Indra when, with his blazing weapon, he struck down the retreating Vṛtra. Now, let us bring forth our speech and raise songs to Indra in the house of the Sun. For even now, treasures are found by those who seek them, and only the well-praised are counted among the givers of wealth. The horse, the cow, the barley—these are far, O Indra, lord of riches. Let all men learn this: it is the friend, not desiring for himself, whom we praise from the highest heaven, together with friends. Like a vigilant woman, Indra’s wealth is guarded on every side, radiant and abundant. Therefore, let us gather and bring it here, overcoming all obstacles, so that the singer’s desire is not left unfulfilled. With shining companions and sacred drops, with wisdom and restraint, may we, together with Indra, overcome our foes and, free from hatred, win the prize. With Indra and with wealth, with victorious steeds shining at the forefront, with the goddess and with abundance of cows and horses, may we obtain the prize together. Indra, mighty one, those exhilarations and strengths have delighted you, especially in the slaying of Vṛtra. For the sake of Kārava, you struck down ten Vṛtras and cast down thousands for the one who sits on the sacred grass. With battle you approach battle, with boldness; in ancient days you destroyed the enemy city with your might. When you, with worthy friendship, struck down Namuci, the cunning one, at the border, your fame spread. You slew Karañja and Parṇaya with your sharpest weapon on Atithigva’s path. You broke a hundred fortresses of Vaṅgṛdas and drove away their defenders with Ṛjiśvan. For the sons of Janarāja, twice ten in number, with their kinsman Suśravas, you struck down sixty thousand and ninety-nine with the wheel of your chariot, O breaker of obstacles. You aided Suśravas with your protection, and Tūrvayāṇa as well. You gave Kutsā, Atithigva, and Āyu to the great, youthful king for victory. Indra’s friends, the divine guardians, are most auspicious. We praise you, O Indra; with you as our ally, may we, possessing good men, enjoy a long and prosperous life. Generous Indra, do not abandon us in this contest, for there is no end to your might. The rivers roar, the forests resound, and as if from fear, the very earths draw together. Sing praise to Śakra, the mighty, magnify Indra who hears our hymn. Bold and strong, the bull subdues both worlds, harnessing his chariot by his own virility. Sing to the great heaven with a strong voice, to the exalted Asura who made the fortresses, the bull who rides with his two tawny steeds. From the great heaven, you rouse the summit; with your boldness, you broke Śambara. With joy, you cast your lightning, a snare, at the cunning and hostile reviler. When you strike upon the head of the wind, even the forests of the roaring, hostile Śuṣṇa are shaken. With ancient wisdom and exaltation, what do you accomplish even today? Who is your equal? You aided the noble Turvaśa and Yadu, O hundred-powered one, and supported Turvīti and Vayya. You gave the chariot to Etaśa as a prize, and you broke ninety-nine fortresses. Truly, he is king, lord of the good, the shining one who listens to the supplicant when called to the offering. Whoever praises him with hymns for wealth receives blessings as if the sky itself pours down gifts. Unmatched is Indra’s power and thought; let his companions be Soma-drinkers and helpers. Those who support you, O Indra, increase your ancient might and virility. These abundant cups, filled from the mountain, are yours to drink, Indra; pour them out, satisfy your desire, and then turn your mind to granting us wealth. The mountain once stood in the darkness, hidden within the belly of the serpent. But Indra, with force, split the rivers, and all the streams rushed forth, flowing freely. O Indra, place your favor upon us, grant us strength and power worthy of people; protect us, generous one, guard our leaders, and bestow wealth and mastery upon us. Even the vastness of heaven is spread out by Indra’s greatness; the earth cannot match his might. Fierce and powerful, his radiance shines among men, and his thunderbolt flashes like a blazing reed. Like oceanic rivers, he seizes wide expanses; eager for the drinking of Soma, he grows strong, praised for his warrior’s vigor. Indra enjoys the mountain as his own; by his greatness, he is unshaken. Through his heroic deeds, he is honored among the gods; mighty, he is foremost in every action. In the forests, those who honor him sing his praises, and among people, his power is spoken of. The bull becomes radiant, the tawny one is strong; Maghavan, the generous, grants the cow. He accomplishes great deeds in battle, granting strength to people with his warrior’s force. Thus, even the bold trust in Indra’s lightning, which strikes down the enemy. Renowned, he destroys strongholds, increasing the earth’s power. Creating lights for worship, the wise and skillful one releases the waters for their journey. May your mind, O Soma-drinker, be inclined to giving; let your horses, who hear praise, come near. Your charioteers are most desired, Indra; none can hinder you, for your signs are many. You bear unmeasured wealth in your hands, and your renowned deeds have placed it upon your strong body. Protected by your many acts, your powers are countless and contained within your form. Indra rises like a swift horse among women, shining and giving skill to the great. With his golden chariot, yoked with tawny steeds, he circles together with the Ribhus, ever radiant and ever victorious.