Come, O Indra, come! We call unto thee with all our hearts. The soma hath been pressed; the rite hath been prepared. Come swift as the lightning; come eager as the storm. Hear the voice of thy faithful servants.

The golden soma floweth like rivers in spate; it gusheth forth with vigor and strength. We offer it unto thee, O mighty god, that thou mayest drink thy fill and rejoice in our devotion. Come, O Indra, and be not slow.

In thy heart is all strength; in thy hand is all power. Thou art the Bull, the invincible warrior, the slayer of demons. None dare stand before thee; none can match thy might. O Indra, come and take thy place in this rite.

The singers do raise their voices in a mighty hymn. The priests do strike the pressing-stones in a sacred rhythm. The soma doth flow like the waters of the Ravi. O Indra, this is the signal for thy coming; this is the call that draweth thee unto us.

Come from the eastern sky; come from the chamber of the clouds. Come where thou dwellest among the gods on high. The mortals below do wait for thee; the faithful do stretch out their hands unto thee. O Indra, answer their prayer and manifest thy presence.

When thou comest, all the world is made glad. The sick are healed; the weak are made strong. The poor man receiveth riches; the childless woman beareth a son. O Indra, come unto us and fulfill all our desires, that we may live and prosper in thy favor.