For you, O Indra, we have composed hymns and praises—songs that are without precedent, most excellent, and worthy of the generous one. We know your bounty and your favor, Indra, just as herdsmen know the care they give to their cattle. Let not this friendship between us be broken; may the inspiration and exhilaration you bring never fail, O Indra. For we know your favor, O god, as one knows the closeness among kin; may your auspicious friendship always remain with us. Indra, drink this sweet Soma, freshly pressed in the cup. Bestow upon us wealth, and in your exhilaration, grant us abundant riches, for you are the possessor of many treasures, and we seek your favor. We approach you with sacrifices, with hymns, and with offerings, O lord of power and strength. In your exhilaration, grant us the best reward, for your favor alone sustains us. You are the lord of treasures, Indra, the one who incites the needy, the protector of singers. In your joy, protect us from enemies and harm, for your favor is our shield. You two, mighty and skillful ones, worked together in perfect harmony, churning the sacred mixture; inspired by exhilaration, you, the two Asvins, churned it with skill. All the gods assembled together when the Asvins emerged in harmony, and the gods said to them, “Bring it back again.” May my departure be sweet, and my return be sweet as well. O gods, by your divinity, may all our actions be accomplished with sweetness. Send us favorable winds for our minds, grant us skill and intelligence. In your friendship, O Soma, in your exhilaration, let our desires, like eager battle-horses rushing to pasture, be fulfilled for your favor. Soma, you dwell in all abodes, touching the heart. Thus, these desires of mine, in your exhilaration, stand ready for wealth, seeking your favor. I do not transgress your ordinances, O Soma, nor your beneficent acts. Like a father to his son, be gracious to us, even from harm, for your favor. Inspired thoughts flow forth together like streams descending from the mountains. Grant us, Soma, strength for life, and in your exhilaration, sustain us as cups are filled, for your favor. By your power, O Soma, the eager ones are chosen. The wise and inspired, in your exhilaration, seek pastures rich with cattle, for your favor. Soma, protect our cattle, spread far and wide throughout the world. Gather them together for life, in your exhilaration, seeing all beings, for your favor. You are our universal guardian, O Soma, inviolable and strong. Repel those who seek to harm us; let no evil-minded one rule over us, for your favor. O Soma, of good counsel, awaken us to gain strength; you bestow fields among men. In your exhilaration, protect us from hostility and sin, for you wish to deliver us. You are the gracious friend of Indra, the slayer of Vṛtra; when called upon in the assembly, you wish to deliver those who fight for offspring and home. This is the swift exhilaration that grows dear to Indra; this, in joy, increases the wisdom of the inspired one, for you wish to deliver. You stir up wealth and cattle for the devoted worshipper; in your exhilaration, you bring forth the best for the seven, and you wish to help us cross beyond blindness and deafness. Splendid thoughts go forth, yoked together; wondrous ones are harnessed to the chariot, and may Pūṣan, strong in might, drive them. The people aspire to your greatness, as the wind moves among them; the inspired one, with hymns, recognizes you both among those who are praised. Indra knows the praises, and Pūṣan, mighty and eager, urges on the herd. We desire you, Pūṣan, for ourselves—the accomplishment of our thoughts and the help of the inspired. You are the winner of sacrifices, your chariots swift as horses; you are the seer, the chosen of Manu, the restraining friend of the inspired. You are the lord of the seeker, of the pure and the purified; O Vāyu, you have cleansed the garments of those who wear them. You are the lord of prizes, our friend of abundance; your tawny beard has grown, you are unassailable. To your chariot, Pūṣan, the goats have turned the yoke; friend of all who seek, born together, unfailing. May Pūṣan, strong in might, harness our chariot of strength; may he, the increaser of prizes, hear our call. Among those who are not, O singer, I am the one with force, preparing for the pressing for the worshipper. I am the giver of curses, the smiter, upholding truth, destroying the one who seeks evil. When I gather those for battle who do not worship the gods, those intent on themselves, I prepare for you, O mighty bull, a strong, pressed Soma, and pour it out. I do not know him who claims to have slain the godless in battle; when he declares the battle dangerous, then my bulls speak forth. When I was among the unknown in the settlements, all the generous ones were with me; I conquer, I know the secure one, I destroy him, grasping his foot on the mountain. Neither in the settlement nor in the mountains do they restrain me when I set my mind; at the sound of my roar, their ears tremble, and the sun’s rays move together. Here, seeing those without Indra, drinkers of liquor, who are struck down by arrows and fall, or those who have spoken ill of a friend, or turned away from the young among them. The oxen have come forth, life has departed; the earlier and later ones have appeared. Two winds circle around him, but none has reached the far side of his realm. The cows, yoked for barley, are counted by the Aryas; I saw them wandering together with their herdsmen. The Aryas call them together, but how many among them does the master choose, according to his will? When we, among the people, eat the barley, I eat within the enclosure. Here, the yoked one seeks the one who brings down, but the unyoked is harnessed by the one who wishes to drive. Here, for you, I speak truthfully what is from flesh, what is from two-footed and four-footed beings. Whoever, with women, divides the virile one in battle, I know how to apportion his share. Whose daughter is born without dice, who knows her, who would desire the blind one? Who will loosen her bonds, who will carry her, who will wish to marry her? How much is a woman cherished by her husband, surrounded by affection and desirable gifts? The bride is fortunate when she is well adorned; she herself chooses her friend among the people. Thus, the hymns and prayers flow, honoring the gods—Indra, Soma, Pūṣan, Vāyu, the Asvins—and seeking their favor, protection, and blessings for abundance, wisdom, and the fulfillment of righteous desires.