O Indra, the people call upon you for your favor, seeking your mighty strength and power. They ask you, generous lord, to protect and guard their leaders, to bestow upon them wealth and mastery, so that their community may flourish under your watchful eye. Such is your greatness, O Indra, that even the vast expanse of heaven stretches at your command, while the earth itself cannot match your strength. Among mortals, your radiance blazes, and your thunderbolt flashes, fierce and powerful, like a burning reed in the night. Like great rivers that surge across the land, you seize wide domains. Eager for the Soma, you grow ever stronger, your warrior’s vigor celebrated in song and praise. You delight in the mountains as your own domain, remaining unshaken by their heights. By your heroic deeds, you are honored among the gods, standing foremost in every action. In the forests, those who revere you speak of your power, and among people your deeds are well known. Like a mighty bull, you shine with radiance, O Maghavan, and in your generosity, you grant prosperity and the cow, source of abundance. In battle, you accomplish great and mighty feats, granting strength to your followers with your force. Even the boldest trust in your lightning, which strikes down their foes without fail. With your renowned strength, you destroy fortified dwellings, expanding the earth’s bounty. You create lights for worship and, with wisdom and skill, release the waters for their journey. O Soma-drinker, may your mind be inclined to giving. Let your horses, swift to praise, draw near; your charioteers, Indra, are most desired, and none can hinder you, for your signs are many and wondrous. You hold immeasurable wealth in your hands, and your body is strong, covered and protected by your own deeds. Within you, Indra, are many powers. You rise like a swift horse among women, shining and giving skill to the great. With your golden chariot, yoked to tawny steeds and accompanied by the Ribhus, you circle in splendor. Hymns of praise whirl around you like wheels, rivers flowing to the sea. As lord of skill and assembly, you climb the mountain, radiant in your strength. You, Turvan, shine greatly in dust and vigor, your force blazing like the mountain’s lightning. By your delight, you subdued Shushna, the magician, bringing joy to your people. When the divine power stirs, it urges you onward, as the dawn urges the sun. With bold strength, you drive away darkness, raising dust with your roaring voice. When you spread the firm sky, you stood above with your might, O Indra. In the joy of pressed Soma, you struck down the serpent and released the waters and the ocean. You established the support of heaven with your strength and the dwellings of earth with your greatness. In your joy, you broke the serpent’s bonds and set the waters free. To you, the most mighty, the great lord of vast wealth, I offer my thoughts. Your true power is renowned, and your difficult gift is open to all, unconcealed like waters flowing in a channel. At your command, O universal one, all mankind rejoices; the waters flow downward, bearing oblations as at the sacred offering. When your golden thunderbolt was unleashed upon the mountain, it could not be restrained. We offer you reverence at the sacrifice, awe-inspiring one, as the radiant dawn brings brightness for your service. Your power, famed as Indra’s, has made a light for glory, guiding the swift. We are your people, praised by many, relying on your strength. None but you can unite our words; as the earth is joined, so accept our speech. Much is your valor, O Indra; we are yours, generous one. Fulfill the singer’s desire. The vast sky follows your might, and the earth stands firm for your strength. With your thunderbolt, you have cleaved the great, broad mountain, releasing the confined waters to flow and establishing the whole with your power. Now, Agni, the immortal born of strength, stands unmoved, having become the priest and messenger of Vivasvat. He moves through the paths set by the gods, spreading the offering with devotion. Youthful and ageless, he comes to his own, thirsting, standing among the fires. Like a horse, his back shines with moisture; like thunder on the mountain’s summit, he resounds. Fierce among the Rudras and Vasus, he is the chief priest, seated for wealth among mortals. Like a swift chariot in the races, the god brings forth all that is desirable for life. Driven by the wind, he stands among the fires, powerful, making noise with empty ladles. When you, Agni, the bull among the woods, shine, the black one becomes the bright, ageless wool. The roaring flame, stirred by wind, rushes through the forest, blowing down the bamboo like leaders in a herd. It moves forward, traversing the path with strength, frightening birds from their perches and flight. The Bhṛgus established you among men, Agni, as wealth, lovely and well-invoked for the people. As the priest, honored guest, and friend, you are auspicious for the divine birth. The seven ladles choose you, the most worthy priest, whom worshippers select at sacrifices. Agni, delight of all the Vasus, I honor with devotion and seek your treasure. O son of strength, grant us today, for the singers, unbroken, friendly protection. Praised Agni, free from distress, powerful and wide in reach, O son of energy, with your ancestors. Be a shelter for the singer, O radiant one; be protection for the generous among the generous. Widely, Agni, shield the singer from distress; in the morning, may the wise one come with thought. By you, Agni, other fires rejoice; all the immortals delight in you. Vaiśvānara, you are the navel of the peoples, honored like a pillar among the tribes. You are the crown of heaven and the navel of earth, becoming the delight of both worlds. The gods created you, Vaiśvānara, as a divine light for the Arya. Steadfast as the sun’s rays, treasures are placed in you, Vaiśvānara Agni. You are king of what is in the mountains, plants, waters, and among men. The two worlds sing to you, son of strength, as the human priest, skilled as Dakṣa, praises you with ancient hymns. O Jātavedas, Vaiśvānara, your greatness has expanded from the lofty heaven; you are king of peoples, of humankind, and in battle you have made a path for the gods. Now let me proclaim the greatness of the Bull, whom the Purus follow, the slayer of Vṛtra; Vaiśvānara Agni, striking down the foe, has shaken the woods and split open Śambara’s stronghold. By your greatness, Vaiśvānara, you are manifest among all peoples; among the Bharadvājas, the worshippers, you shine forth. In the house of Śātavaneya, with sharp flames, Agni, rich in praise, grows strong in many abodes. Agni, the resplendent, is the banner of the assembly, the well-guiding envoy, swiftly to be sought, the twice-born, the renowned wealth, the gift that Mātariśvan brought to Bhṛgu. To him, both rulers and subjects resort, those with offerings, the Uśijs and mortals. Even from heaven, he was the first to be established as Hotar, to be questioned, lord of the clans, the wise one among the tribes. May we, with new praise, approach him who is born in our hearts, whose tongue is sweet, whose fame is ours, whom the priests and zealous men have generated among the people, striving with devotion and zeal.