Praised with soma be thou, O Indra! We have made the sacred draught for thee, and it awaiteth thy lips. The finest plant, the most precious juice—we have prepared it with care and ritual purity. Come now and taste it!

When thou drinkest the soma, thy greatness doth swell within thee. The intoxication filleth thy limbs with divine power. Thy strength increaseth a thousandfold. Thy courage becometh immeasurable. Thy intelligence pierceth all mysteries. Thou becomest invincible, unstoppable, a force of nature against which no foe can stand.

Yet the soma doth more than strengthen thy body and sharpen thy mind. It doth also open thy heart. When thou hast drunk, thy generosity overfloweth like a river. Thou givest gifts to thy worshippers. Thou grantest boons to those who praise thee. Thou dost show favor to the righteous and rain destruction upon the wicked.

Therefore we make this offering, O Indra! Drink deep of the soma! Let it fill thee to overflowing! And in thy joy and thy strength, remember us. Grant us thy protection. Grant us thy bounty. Grant us a share of thy magnificent power.

In the ancient days, the soma itself was a god—Soma, the god of intoxication and wisdom. But in these later times, Soma hath become the sacred plant, the drink that we mortals prepare for the gods. Yet something of Soma's original godhood remaineth within the draught. When thou drinkest, O Indra, thou art communing with a power as old as creation itself.

We glorify thee in thy soma-intoxication, O mighty one! We praise thee when thy strength is at its greatest and thy generosity floweth forth without measure. Thus do we call upon thee with lifted voices and outstretched hands. Accept our soma! Be pleased with our worship! Grant us thy favor forever.