O mighty one, you drive away countless evils, clearing the way for the birth of offspring and, by your own power, shaping the very horses that carry us. You widen the path for the sacred cow, and those who follow your path seek abundant praise, praying that the offerings we make may unite and prosper. The king, endowed with wisdom and purified in his purpose, journeys ever onward, reaching the very limits of thought as he travels through the midspace between earth and heaven. We call upon Soma: come to us, bring strength and youthful vigor, bestow beauty and brilliance upon us, and may you, well-pressed, grant us divine favor. Come, O Indu, and bring to us the wealth of a hundred cows, nourishment for our cattle, and fine horses, all bearing good fortune for our delight. You, who possess manly powers and dwell in the great abodes of heaven, are sought by us as a lovely presence through your good deeds. With collected strength and hymns, with mighty vows and exhilaration, you have shattered a hundred strongholds. Then, the treasure itself approached you, king of heaven, skillful and unwearied, brought by the splendid-winged one. Thus, by stirring up your power, you attain ever-greater greatness, renowned among men and bestower of abundance. For the seer of all, he bears the common realm, swift as the wind, guardian of the cow, bringer of nectar. O Indu, purify yourself for our sustenance, cleansed by the wise, and come with your radiance to the cows. Purifying as you go, you widen the path, O singer, generating strength for the people; O tawny one, pour forth the swift and nourishing stream. Purifying for divine favor, go forth, O Indu, along Indra’s path, shining and yoked with the steeds. By Agni, Agni is kindled—the sage, the youthful lord of the house, the carrier of offerings, with the ladle in his mouth. Whoever, O Agni, worships you with offerings as the divine messenger, be his true protector. Whoever invokes Agni for divine favor, to him, O pure one, grant happiness. I invoke Mitra, pure in skill, and Varuṇa, destroyer of foes, and the radiant insight that brings success. By truth, Mitra and Varuṇa, who grow through truth and touch truth, have attained vast power. Wise and of mighty birth, dwelling in spacious abodes, Mitra and Varuṇa, grant us skill and remove all hostility. With Indra, you are seen together, coming united and unafraid, both shining with equal brilliance. They return again into the womb according to their own law, bearing the sacred name, worthy of sacrifice. Even the hidden one you, Indra, have found with your fires, breaking open the enclosure and following the cows. I invoke those two by whom all this was accomplished of old—Indra and Agni. We call upon Indra and Agni, fierce destroyers of obstacles; may they grant us favor in this way. You strike down the hostile Vṛtras, you strike down the Dasyus, O true lords; you strike down all enemies. The pressed and exhilarating Somas flow forth, wise ones, brimming with delight, upon the ocean’s surface, eager and overflowing with ecstasy. Purifying, you cross the ocean with your wave, O king and god, great in truth; flow on by the ordinance of Mitra and Varuṇa, impelling the great truth. The king, god of the ocean, adorned by men, splendid and discerning, is manifest. He utters three voices: the fire sends forth the inspiration of truth, the wisdom of the priest; the cows go to their lord, inquiring, and the thoughts, longing, go to Soma. The cows, the milch-kine, longing, go to Soma; the wise, with their thoughts, seek after Soma; Soma, pressed and purified, is praised, and to Soma the hymns—the triṣṭubh verses—are joined. Thus, Soma, as you are poured out and purified, flow for our well-being; enter Indra with your vast intoxication and generate abundant speech for us. If, Indra, you had hundreds and hundreds of heavens and earths, not even a thousand suns could match you, nor both the worlds together at birth. You have expanded with your mighty power, O vigorous one, most powerful by your strength; protect us, O generous one, in the cattle-rich prize, O wielder of the bolt, with splendid aids. We, having pressed Soma, approach you as waters approach the altar; at the outpourings of the purifier, O slayer of Vṛtra, your worshippers are assembled. O Vasu, when you are pressed, men call to you with hymns; when will you, who are longed for, come to our home, Indra, resounding like the sound of a bamboo flute? With the Kanvas, O mighty one, we have seen you—the banner-bearer, the thousand-gifter, Maghavan, of tawny form, O wise one; swiftly we seek the wealth abounding in cattle. The swift one, eager to win, seeks the prize with Purandhi as his yokemate; to you, Indra, much-invoked, I bow with song, as to a well-fashioned, firm wheel-rim. No ill-praised one is praised among the wealthy, nor does a failing treasure remain; O Maghavan, for you, the mighty, let there be for the generous what is best in the highest heaven. Three voices rise up: the cows low, the milch-cows call, and the tawny one bellows aloud. The Brahman-prayers have followed, the young mothers of truth, purifying the child of heaven.