O Indra, mightiest among the gods! The mountains trembled at thy voice. The darkness fled when thou didst hurl thy thunderbolt against the demon-hosts. Vritra the serpent, that foul obstruction, lay crushed beneath thy weapon—the waters broke forth in ecstasy, flowing toward the sea in endless torrents.

Thou hast won the sun, O lord of battles. Thou hast seized the soma from the cave where demons kept it hidden. The cattle cry out in joy—herds multiplied beyond counting—for thou hast freed them from the Paṇis' grasp. No foe dare stand before thee, Indra the unconquerable.

The heavens acknowledge thy sovereignty. The earth trembles at thy footfall. When thou dost march in war, the very stones break asunder. The gods themselves bow down before thy might, for none hath conquered as thou hast conquered. The rains obey thy summons; the winds bend to thy will.

With thee do mortals win their battles. With thee do the priests chant their hymns of power. Thou hast granted them the sacrifice, the sacred soma, the eternal wisdom of the Ṛṣis. In thy hand rests the destiny of men—both the weak and the strong.

Come now, O Indra, to our soma-feast! Drink deep of the pressed juice, and let thy generosity flow forth upon us. Grant us victory over our enemies. Grant us increase of cattle and increase of sons. Grant us long life and the blessings of the gods. We sing thy praises now and ever, O Indra the Golden, O Indra the Unconquered!