The sages gather, their voices united in reverence, calling upon Indra, the mighty stone-bearer. Though desires may wander elsewhere, they entreat this generous lord to swiftly grant their wishes, aided by his divine powers. Among all beings, they find no other equal to Indra—none who bestows wealth, riches, glory, and strength with such love for song and praise. With devotion, they pour the sacred Soma for Indra, who delights in its honeyed elixir. His greatness grows with every act of generosity. The worshippers approach the lord of the bays, the skilled and ready bestower, offering praise to the one whose horses carry him swiftly. They affirm that never before has there been a hero greater than Indra—not in wealth, not in gifts, not in contests. The officiant prepares the most exhilarating, intoxicating drink, knowing that such offerings honor the ever-strong hero. Indra, steadfast among his bay steeds, receives new praise—his might inspiring songs that cannot be restrained. The sages call upon him, the lord of prizes, seeking fame and hoping that their unfailing sacrifices will increase his glory. Together, friends and companions, they raise their voices in praise of Indra, the man worthy of song, who alone has protected all peoples. For those who seek cattle, for the strong and the brilliant, they speak noble words—sweeter than clarified butter and honey. Indra’s immeasurable powers and generosity shine forth, his right hand spreading light everywhere. They honor Indra, whose face resembles a horse, who is a wave, a prize-winner, a restrainer. For the Arya, he divides the life of the arrogant, granting favor to the worshipper. The tenth and ninth Vaiyasva are praised, wise and praiseworthy among singers. Indra, wielder of the thunderbolt, knows the courses of destruction, cleansing the world day by day as if erasing footprints. The sages call upon Indra to bring forth that which makes him most powerful in deed, urging him once more to support the Kutsas and not hold back. They seek him anew, the most potent in action, hoping he will help them overcome all hostilities. Indra, the slayer of the Dasa, mighty and strong, released them from sin and want in the seven rivers—they bow to him in gratitude. As Indra brought wealth to the excellent Suṣāman, so the worshippers ask him to bless their companions, the fortunate, and those who possess horses. They wish for the reward of the generous woman and the Soma-presser to manifest—abundant wealth, with hundreds and thousands of cattle. When the knowing one asks, with cunning, for the sake of cunning, the hidden Vala stands beside the rich one. Turning their attention to other divine guardians, the sages invoke Mitra and Varuṇa, the two worthy of sacrifice among the gods, upholders of truth, to be worshipped with purified skill. Mitra, like a son of the chariot, and Varuṇa, whose wisdom is excellent, have offspring steadfast in their vows since ancient times. Their mother, Aditi, knower of all worlds and of great might, gave birth to them for sovereignty, rich in truth. Mitra and Varuṇa are great sovereigns, gods, lords of power, upholders of truth, shining with glory, and proclaiming a mighty sound. Sons of strength and greatness, offspring of skill, they possess excellent wisdom and are givers of gifts, establishing abundance in every dwelling. These two restrain the gifts, both celestial and earthly riches, and command the rain-clouds, full of water, to move for them. Upon the vast heaven, as over a herd, Mitra and Varuṇa watch over all, upholding truth and sovereignty. The sages bow to these helpers, praying that they sit down for sovereignty, endowed with wisdom, steadfast in vows, royal, and attaining dominion. Their vision is unclouded, ever watchful, never closing their eyes or looking away. The worshippers seek the grace of goddess Aditi, and the two Aśvins; they ask the Maruts, of increasing might, to be gracious. They pray that these generous ones carry them safely, like a ship, by day and by night, and that they remain unharmed under their protection. They seek Viṣṇu, the generous one, and call to Sindhu, the self-moving river, for fulfillment of their former intent. They choose the most excellent and desirable protection, which Mitra, Varuṇa, and Aryaman guard. May Sindhu, the waters, the Maruts, the Aśvins, Indra, and Viṣṇu, all united and gracious, protect them. For these mighty ones repel the attack of any foe, driving back assailants like a sharp wave. The lord of all sees far and wide, and the worshippers move according to his ordinances. They follow the ancient words of sovereignty, pursuing the ordinances of Mitra and the far-heard Varuṇa. He who measured out the ends of heaven with his ray filled both heaven and earth with his greatness. The light rises in the shelter of heaven; it is the Sun, radiant like fire, kindled and shining brightly. He is master of speech, vast and clear, and of wealth abundant in cattle; indeed, he is lord of nourishment and of the pasture for grazing. Thus, the sages praise the gods—Indra, Mitra, Varuṇa, Aditi, the Aśvins, the Maruts, Sindhu, Aryaman, and Viṣṇu—honoring their greatness, seeking their protection, and expressing gratitude for their blessings, which sustain all the worlds.