Listen, as the sacred narrative unfolds: The wise speak of the two powers joined with Kashyapa, the seer who knows the heavens. By their unwavering vow, those of discernment established the world itself and the order of sacrifice. Let all people, beloved of the offering, raise their voices in praise—let men, sons, and city-dwellers alike offer their strong songs. Let the hymn be lifted for Indra, the mighty Shakra, unconquered, who delights in our libations and cherishes our friendship. Upon Vishvanara, the lord of riches, unconquered in strength, we call, summoning the chariots of the nations for support. Know this, O people: he who, with wisdom, helps you from the heights of heaven, enables one to cross the hatred and distress that press down from the mighty sky, as easily as crossing a narrow bridge. Indra, all-pervading, bestower of gifts, hundred-powered, grant us abundant wealth! Magnify our glory among all peoples with your gracious counsel. See how the birds—winged in mind, two-footed and four-footed—set forth at dawn, following the seasons, traveling beyond the boundaries of heaven. And those gods who stand in the shining region of the sky—what is their truth, what is immortal, what ancient offering belongs to them? With both Ṛc and Sāman, we worship, as these are the means by which the gods perform their rites. In your assembly, shining forth, you declare the sacrifice among the gods. All the hosts of men, with their companions, have fashioned Indra as king—for strength, for steadfast resolve, for wide might, for power, for the most vigorous among all. I place my faith in that first intention: Indra struck down the evil one, the foe, day after day, and split the waters. When heaven and earth themselves pursued you, O strong one, even the stone-bound earth fled from your might. Let all strength gather for the lord of heaven, the great guest among peoples, ancient and ever-new. He alone seeks to win, and the paths themselves turn after him. These, O Indra, are your people, much-praised one, who move about relying on you. For there is no other—O lover of song—who joins our hymns as the earths are joined. So, tawny one, accept our words. The great hymns approach Maghavan, Indra, upheld by the peoples with praise, ever-growing and ever-invoked, with beautiful hymns—immortal, ever-youthful, day by day. To Indra, all thoughts, youthful as heaven, have come together, shining. The peoples embrace him as a husband, a noble man, a splendid Maghavan, for aid. Let your songs bring joy to that ram, mighty Indra, much-invoked, wealthy as the ocean, whom the heavens do not surpass in strength. Praise the most powerful sage. Let us magnify that ram, the wise, with a hundred strong companions; like a racer, a prize, a chariot for invocation, may we turn Indra for help with beautiful hymns. The earth, rich in ghee, adorned among beings, broad and fair, and heaven and earth, yielding honey, are established by Varuna’s law—unaging, ever-fertile. Indra, you have spanned both heaven and earth like the dawns; you are the great sovereign of vast realms and peoples. The divine mother, auspicious and blessed, has brought you forth. Now, with praise, honor the father for his delight, who, with black clouds for his womb, struck down the foe with Ṛjiśvan. We call upon mighty, thunder-armed, Marut-accompanied Indra as a friend for help. In the pressed Somas, Indra, purify your strength and your song-worthy power, for you know the greatness of enduring skill. Sing forth to him, the much-invoked, much-praised Indra; with hymns, call upon the mighty one to come. We praise your exhilaration, O mighty world-creator Indra, powerful in battles, radiant with golden splendor. Whatever Soma you delight in, O Indra, with Viṣṇu, with Trita Āptya, or with the Maruts—rejoice in those drops. Let the priest pour out the most exhilarating sweetness of Soma; thus is the hero ever praised, ever-growing. Pour out the drop for Indra; let him drink the honeyed Soma, for by his greatness he inspires gifts. Now, friends, let us praise Indra, the praiseworthy hero, who alone has surpassed all peoples. Sing a chant for Indra, the wise, the great, the creator of the sacred word, the far-seeing, the worthy of praise. He alone bestows wealth upon the mortal who serves—Indra, sovereign, unconquered lord. Friends, let us seek the favor of Indra, the thunderer, with hymns; praise the most heroic, the boldest among men. I praise that fifth, the foremost portion, O Indra, your might, the highest for divine attainment, by which you struck down Vṛtra with your power, O lord of strength. By whose exhilaration you, Indra, broke Śambara for Divodāsa—this Soma is pressed for you; drink it. Indra, grant us your favor, beloved, unconcealed by enemies, as a mountain broad on every side, lord of heaven. That exhilaration, O Indra, most Soma-loving, most powerful, stirs you; by it you struck down the lawless one—may we obtain that. For the weak and the feeble, grant us that; make our life firm for living. O mighty Ādityas, act together. For you, O thunder-handed, know the courses of destruction; day by day, you cleanse, as one does the tracks. O Ādityas, drive away the evil of waters, dispel the triple harm, remove ill intention; protect us from distress. Drink the Soma, Indra, let it delight you—what the stone, swift as a horse, has pressed for you, the skillful one, with both arms. Indra, you are without enmity, without hostility, ancient by birth; you seek to fight, you desire to be a father. He who brought us this wealth before, I praise him as a friend—Indra, for help. Thus, the story of Indra’s greatness, the order of sacrifice, and the prayers of the wise are woven together—ever ancient, ever new.