To thee, O Indra, lord of all the powers, we cry aloud through all our nights and hours. The vajra-bearer, wielder of the bolt, before thy name the demons twain do jolt.

With roaring voice that shaketh earth and sky, thou ridest forth, and all the winds do fly. Thy horses race with manes of golden light; they bear thee onward through the starlit night. The rains do fall at thy command on high; the thunder rolls where thou dost pass on by.

O mighty one, thy bounty hath no end. On thee as father, friend, and guide, we spend our strength in praise. Thou art the king of all the vast expanse — earth, air, and heaven dance at thy glance.

The demons tremble when they hear thy name; the serpents shudder at thy sacred flame. Vṛtra once rose in fury 'gainst the sky, a wall of darkness none could ever fly. But thou, O Indra, with thy lightning bright didst split him open in that fateful fight.

The waters flowed, the treasures broke set free, the sun burst forth in radiant majesty. The dawn arose where once was only night; thy victory gave the world its light.

We offer thee the soma, pressed and pure — accept our gift, let thy great deeds endure. Grant us the herds of cattle, strong and wide; the horses swift that bear us far and wide. Bless all our labors, make our harvests grow; on thee alone depends both friend and foe.