This honey-sweet draught is poured forth for thee, O Indra, for thou art master o’er the bowl wherein the soma is pressed.

Grant unto us store of wealth, with men of might about us.
Thou didst waken thy fire on every side, and with thy burning didst lay hold upon the sun.

We call to this place the catcher of the sun, he who delighteth in the soma's golden stem— he whose strength is spread on every hand.
Give ear to our rite; draw thou nigh.
We call upon the giver of gifts, who humbleth his foes.

By the word of King Soma and King Varuna, and under the watch of Br̥haspati and Anumati,

I drank this day at thy praise and summoning, O bringer of boons, from the tubs of draught— thou who setteth in place and bringeth all things to their rule.

Being roused, I drank deep at the vat, and as first among givers, I gather this song to myself.
If at the pressing I have returned unto you twain— O Viśvāmitra and Jamadagni— then know that I am come to your hall, bearing spoil and goodly gain.