Indra, the unconquered warrior, ever resolute and unshaken, stands as the mighty drinker of Soma, whose determination never falters. To him, the people offer their prayers, seeking wealth and abundance, and asking his protection in their contests for riches. Indra’s immense power, his skill, and wisdom, sharpen the thunderbolt he wields—an instrument both desirable and formidable. The very sky proclaims Indra’s manliness, the earth resounds with his fame, while the waters and mountains themselves urge him on to ever-greater deeds. Even Vishnu of the vast expanse, along with Mitra, Varuna, the assembled deities, and the Maruts, all rejoice in Indra’s glory. Yet Agni too, the divine fire, is invoked for strength. Peoples everywhere sing his praises, praying that he remain unconquered and destroy their foes. They entreat Agni to seek out cattle for them, to bring wealth that is wide and abundant, and not to let their riches be taken by others. As Agni wins, so may he win wealth for those who call upon him. All peoples bow before the wrath of the mighty, just as rivers flow to the ocean. Indra, with his hundred-jointed, potent thunderbolt, split the head of Vritra, the great resister. His strength and brilliance were manifest when he brought together both worlds as if stretching a hide. In this cosmic order, the gracious and wealthy one, the good daughter, brings delight. The mighty one is called to come with his two beautiful, well-matched bay steeds, yoked to the chariot pole, drawing near at the summons. These steeds stand with lowered heads in the midst of the waters, their ten horns pointing in every direction. The eighth and the second half rush forth, each to its own place, while the pourers hasten to offer Soma to the hero, the mighty one, for the intoxicating draught. Again, the two bay horses, yoked by prayer, are urged to swiftly bring Indra—the friend and the singer—to be praised with hymns. Indra, the slayer of Vṛtra, rich in offerings, has drunk the Soma; let him not be restrained, for his might is abundant. To Indra, the drops of Soma approach like rivers to the sea; no one can surpass him. He has revealed his greatness, awakening for the draught of Soma, filling his bellies with delight. May the Soma be pleasant for Indra, the slayer of Vṛtra; may the drops gladden his abode. Now, let the one who is to be praised by every clan—Rudra—be awakened with age and understanding, and let the hymn for this worshipful one be sung. May Agni, the smoke-bannered, forward-shining, unshakable one, impel us toward wisdom and strength. May the divine sign, lord of the people, like a benefactor, listen to our hymns—Agni of great radiance. Let us sing at the pressing, together with the much-invoked one, for strength, for what is auspicious as for the cow, and for the generous. The good one does not withhold the gift of wealth rich in cattle when songs reach him. May he, the destroyer of foes, go forth to the cattle-rich enclosure and, with his powers, not keep us away. Viṣṇu, the guardian, has made three mighty strides, setting down his footstep three times, encompassing all in the dust. From these steps, Viṣṇu upholds the laws of the universe. Behold the deeds of Viṣṇu, from where his sacred laws are made manifest—he who is Indra’s dear companion. That highest step of Viṣṇu is ever beheld by the wise, like an eye extended in the sky. The inspired poets, ever awake, kindle together that highest step of Viṣṇu. From there, may the gods protect us, from the place where Viṣṇu has made his strides, upon the ridge of the earth. Let neither you nor the sacrificer be angry with us, O gods; whether from afar or near, come to this gathering and listen to our prayers. At the pressing, the singers, desiring wealth, sit like bees at honey, O Indra—they have placed their feet upon the chariot, having been made by your prayer. The ancient hymn is praised and spoken forth to Brahman and Indra. The great verses of truth have followed, and the thoughts of the singer have flowed forth. Indra has shaken forth great wealth; together, the earth, the sun, the bright and pure ones, the givers of cows, and the Soma juices have all gladdened Indra. Soma is poured out for Indra to drink, for the slayer of Vṛtra, for the man of skill, the generous one, the god who sits in his seat. May we, his friends, and the wise ones, attain the fragrance of strength and gain the wealth of vigor. They purify the tawny, bay-colored steed with water—the one who, together with intoxication, goes to all the gods. What mortal, O Indra of abundant wealth, can overcome you? Indeed, O bountiful one, with faith, the strong seek strength in the highest heaven.