None hath arisen to match thy glory, O Indra. The gods themselves acknowledge thy supremacy. When thou dost stand forth in armor, even the demons pale and retreat. The demon Dhuni fled at thy name alone, ere thou hadst drawn thy bow.

What feat hast thou not accomplished? What foe hath not fallen before thee? Thou didst slay Ahi the serpent-dragon—he whose coils encompassed the waters of heaven and earth. Thou didst free the sun from the devouring darkness. Thou didst break the chains that bound Soma, and made the soma-drink sacred to all men.

With arms that know no weariness, thou subdued the wild horses of the storm. The Maruts themselves become but thy companions when thou ridest forth to battle. The thunderbolt in thy hand is as a scepter—the very emblem of thy dominion over all created things.

Yet who art thou, O Indra? Art thou merely a god among many? Nay! Thou art the supreme lord of victory, the unrivaled champion. When men call upon thy name in their hour of need, it is thou alone who hearest. It is thy strength that sustains them. It is thy wisdom that guideth them through the labyrinth of this world.

Therefore we sing thy praises with voices of exultation! We pour out the soma in thy honor. We kindle the sacred fires. We invoke thee with all the fervor of our hearts. Grant us thy protection, thy favor, thy blessing. Make us undefeated in all our struggles. For thou art Indra the Mighty, the Unrivaled, the One Upon Whom All Depends!