O Indra, mighty stone-splitter, you are not one to be bargained for, neither for a distant price nor for a thousand or ten thousand treasures. Your gifts, O thunderer, are not measured by numbers, for you are the generous bestower of hundreds and more. You are the wealth of my father, the strength of my brother who shares in the offerings, and the shelter of my mother—O lord of treasures, you safeguard our prosperity and favor. For you, Indra, we have pressed the Somas, blending them with curds and clarified butter, dedicating the first and the fourth portion for your delight. Come, thunder-handed one, drawn by exhilaration, come to our home with your two bay steeds to drink. These Somas are prepared for your joy, O famed one, praised in song—drink of their sweetness, listen to our hymns, and accept our praise, for you cherish those who sing to you. Today, I invoke you, Indra, as the ever-yielding cow, abundant in nourishment and adorned, the Gayatri-metered, to grant us food. No great rocks can restrain your might; whatever you desire for your worshipper, no withholder can diminish your wealth. Who truly knows with what pressed Soma you drink, O wise one, you who delight and shatter forts with your power, sharp and exhilarated by the sacred draught? Indra, shake off lawlessness from our assembly; seat our most cherished Soma on the sacred grass, O generous one, for the sake of wealth. May Tvaṣṭṛ, divine speech, Parjanya, and Bṛhaspati protect us; may Aditi, with her sons and brothers, guard us and save us from harmful words and difficulty. When, Indra, will you be our companion, standing with your worshippers? Let the generous one come near, let your gifts be sought anew, O god. Yoke your two bays, O Vṛtra-slayer, and come from afar; draw near for the Soma, mighty one, come with the singers. Today, these men have filled you, thunderer, with their offerings; O Indra, bearer of praise, listen and come with favor to your own kin. Now the dawn appears, the shining daughter of heaven. She gazes upon the great waters and, fair and radiant, turns darkness into light. These dawns in heaven call to you, O Aśvins; so do I, seeking your help, O lords of power who journey from clan to clan. Who, O Aśvins, is afflicted, which god or mortal, whom you strike with your might, or who, guided by you, passes the night unharmed? Your sweetest Soma, pressed among the dawns, O Aśvins, is offered to you—drink it beyond the day and bestow treasures upon your worshipper. I, ever seeking, implore you for the draught of Soma—like a bowstring for the arrow, or a beast for the hunt, you have never failed in the offerings; who would not seek the Lord’s favor? O Adhvaryu, press out the Soma, for Indra thirsts; now the mighty one has yoked his two bay steeds and the slayer of Vṛtra draws near. Indra, you have always been the stronger among the lesser; generous one, you are renowned in every contest, and in every battle you are worthy of the offering. As far as your power extends, Indra, may I have mastery; you bestow favor on the singer—granting wealth and never misfortune. In battle, you surpass all rivals, destroyer of curses, creator, conqueror of obstacles; you overcome the hostile and the defiant. None who have sought to surpass the seat of heaven has outstripped you, Indra, in the realms of earth; you have embraced all. The pressed Soma, roaring, has been poured out for you, O god. At your birth, Indra, you declared: “We are aware of you, O swift one, through sacrifices—may we know you through hymns and the joy of Soma.” Your seat is established in our home, your yoke set by men; much-invoked one, come as our protector, grant us wealth, and be delighted with the Somas. You shattered enclosures, O Indra, opened the channels, released the bound rivers; you split the great mountain, and when you struck down the Dānavas, the streams flowed forth. We, having pressed Soma, praise you, Indra, and, strong in your might, we seek riches. Bring us prosperity, so that with your help, by our own strength, we may prevail. We have grasped your right hand, Indra, desiring wealth—O lord of riches, lord of treasures; for we know you as the herdsman, O hero. Grant us splendid, mighty wealth among cattle. Men invoke you with their offerings, yoking their thoughts to the ritual; O bestower of strength, grant us fame—share with us the cattle-rich prize. The swift-winged birds, the dear-minded seers, have approached you, Indra, unfailing in their devotion. Drive away the darkness, grant us sight, release us as one unbinds the bound from a hidden place. In the sky, as the golden-winged bird flies, the wise have seen you with their hearts—messenger of Varuṇa, bird of Yama’s realm, the swift one with golden wings. Brahman was born first, in the beginning, before all else; from it, the radiant seer spread forth. Its foundations are in the depths—its measures are the womb of all that is and is not. Unprecedented, most abundant gifts have been fashioned for you, O great, heroic, strong, wide-seeing, wielder of the bolt; for you, steadfast one, the most peaceful words have been composed. The black drop, shining, stood on the bright one, moving with ten thousand. Indra, by your power, you turned it back, and the men, by their skill, removed the stain. All the gods, seeking to aid you against Vṛtra’s breath, became your allies; Indra, may the Maruts be your companions—so may you conquer all these battles. See the marvel of the god: the young man, surrounded by his peers, grows gray and keeps watch; his greatness endures, yet yesterday, one just like him passed away. From birth, Indra, you became an enemy to the enemies, hidden by heaven and earth; you found your way among the mighty worlds and set battle among the abundant beings. Like a pillar, O Thunderer, you stand steadfast and powerful; you are invoked by the eager, the generous, the worshippers, the destroyer of Vṛtra, the radiant bull whom I praise. Offer your praise to the great, the ever-increasing, the wise; bring forth goodwill, O people, advance, O leaders of men, go forward to the ancient hosts. Let us call upon Indra, the generous, in this battle, the best among men for the prize; may he, fierce and attentive to our call, strike down the foes in the contests and win the wealth. The hymns have risen for your glory; Vasiṣṭha magnifies you, Indra, in the assembly—you who have spread your fame everywhere, who listen to my words, eager for praise.