The hymns rise in praise of Indra, swirling around him like the wheels of a chariot, just as rivers hurry to meet the sea. As the lord of skill and mighty assemblies, Indra, full of strength, ascends the mountain, radiant in his splendor. Turvan, another name for Indra, shines forth powerfully in the dust and vigor of the world; his force blazes like lightning flashing upon a mountaintop. In his delight, he subdued the sorcerer Shushna, causing even his enemies to rejoice. When the divine power stirs, it urges Indra onward, just as the dawn urges the sun to rise. With bold strength, Indra dispels the darkness, raising clouds of dust as he thunders forth, his mighty voice echoing. At the time when he spread out the sky as a firm support, Indra stood supreme in his might. In the joy of the pressed Soma, he delighted and struck down the serpent, breaking its bonds and releasing the imprisoned waters and the ocean. Indra, with his strength, established the support of heaven and, with his greatness, the dwellings of earth. Again, in the joy of Soma, he shattered the serpent’s hold and set the waters free. Now, my thoughts turn to the most mighty, the great lord of vast wealth, whose true power is celebrated everywhere. His gifts, though difficult to attain, are open to all, and his strength is unconcealed, flowing like waters in a channel. At his command, all humankind rejoices; the waters flow downward, bearing offerings. Upon the mountain, Indra’s golden thunderbolt, the delight-giver, was unleashed without restraint. To this awe-inspiring one, we offer reverence at the sacrifice, as radiant dawn brings new light for his service. Indra’s famed power has made a path of light, guiding the swift and the worthy. We, O Indra, are your people, praised by many and relying on your strength. No other but you, O singer of praises, can unite our words; as the earth is joined, so accept our speech. Your valor is immense, O generous Indra, and we are yours. Fulfill the singer’s desire. The vast sky follows your might, and the earth itself is set for your strength. With your thunderbolt, you cleaved the great, broad mountain, releasing the confined waters to flow; with all your power, you have established the world. Now, the immortal Agni, born of strength, stands unmoved, having become the priest and messenger of Vivasvat. He moves along the paths set by the gods, spreading the offering with devotion. Agni, youthful and ageless, returns to his own, thirsting, standing among the fires. His back shines with moisture like a horse, and he resounds like thunder atop the mountain. Fierce with the Rudras and Vasus, Agni is the chief priest, bringing forth desirable things for life like a swift chariot in the races. Driven by the wind, Agni stands among the fires, powerful, making noise with empty ladles. When Agni, the bull among the woods, shines, the black one becomes the bright, ageless wool. The roaring flame, stirred by wind, moves through the forest, blowing down the bamboo like leaders in a herd. It pushes forward with strength, frightening birds from their perches and nests. The Bhṛgus established Agni among men, as a treasure, lovely and well-invoked for the people. As priest, honored guest, and friend, Agni is auspicious for the birth of the divine. The seven ladles choose the most worthy priest, whom the worshippers select at sacrifices—Agni, the delight of all the Vasus, whom we honor with devotion, seeking his treasure. O son of strength, grant us today, for the singers, unbroken and friendly protection. Agni, praised and free from distress, wide in power, O son of energy, be with your ancestors. Be a shelter for the singer, O radiant one, and protection for the generous. Widely, O Agni, shield the singer from distress; may the wise one come with thought at dawn. By you, O 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. Agni is the crown of heaven, the navel of earth; thus he became the delight of both worlds. The gods created you, Vaiśvānara, as a divine light for the Arya. Like the steadfast rays of the sun, treasures are placed in Vaiśvānara Agni—those in the mountains, in the plants, in the waters, and among men—he is their king. The two worlds sing to the son, the human priest, skilled like Dakṣa. With true strength, they praise Vaiśvānara, the best among men, with ancient hymns. Jātavedas, Vaiśvānara, your greatness has expanded from the lofty heaven; you are king of peoples and humankind, making a path for the gods in battle. I proclaim the greatness of the Bull, whom the Purus follow, the slayer of Vṛtra; Vaiśvānara Agni, striking down foes, has shaken the woods and split open Śambara’s stronghold. Vaiśvānara, by his greatness, is manifest among all peoples; among the Bharadvājas, the worshippers, he shines forth. In the house of Śātavaneya, with his sharp flames, Agni, rich in praise, grows strong in many abodes. Agni, resplendent, is the banner of the assembly, the well-guiding envoy, swift and renowned, the twice-born wealth, the gift that Mātariśvan brought to Bhṛgu. To him, both rulers and subjects, those with offerings, Uśijs and mortals, resort. From heaven, Agni was the first established as Hotar, the wise lord of the clans, to be questioned 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 active men have generated among the people, striving with zeal. Agni, pure and shining, the treasure-giver among men, the most excellent Hotar, has been established among the tribes; the householder, lord of the home, may Agni be the master of riches for the wealthy. You, Agni, lord of riches, we Gotamas praise with our thoughts; swift, bringing the prize, may you come quickly with wisdom at dawn, O beneficent one. To mighty Indra, strong and great, I offer this praise as a gift for his greatness; may the inspired Adhrigavas send forth hymns for Indra, the most generous. For him, I bring these praises, raising my voice in abundant song; for Indra, with heart, mind, and thought, the ancient lord, may our prayers be adorned. With my mouth, I bring the most excellent, radiant praise; with the greatest words of the wise and splendid hymns, let us magnify the generous one. I join this hymn to Indra, as a craftsman fits a chariot for the journey; songs for the song-loving, splendid Indra, for the wise one, for all to hear. Like a victorious troop, I set forth the hymn for Indra with my voice, to honor the heroic, bountiful one, the ancient, famed for his deeds and upholder of law. For him, Tvaṣṭṛ fashioned the thunderbolt, most skillful, fit for glory and battle; with it, Indra struck at the vital spot of Vṛtra, shattering the stronghold with his weapon. At his mother’s urging, Indra drank at once the strength of his father; swift, aided by Vishnu, the stronger one cooked the offering and pierced the boar that hid the mountain. For him, even the goddesses, the wives of the gods, sang hymns after his great deed; the broad heavens and earth embraced him, yet his greatness could not be contained.