To thy mighty name, O bounteous one, the two world-halves in fear did cry.
Thou didst uphold the gods, thou didst lay low the might of the Dāsa, as likewise thou didst work thy strength for the kin of men, O Indra.

When thou didst roam, grown full in limb and frame, declaring thy strength among the folk, that was thy cunning feat, which men do name as battle; neither now nor in the days of yore hath any found thy match.

What seer, ere we, hath ever reached the bound of all thy greatness— in that thou brought forth thy mother and thy father,

Heaven and Earth, in one moment, from thine own self?

Four are the lordly names that bear thy mark— unerring are they, as the names of the strong buffalo.

These thou knowest full well, through which thy deeds are done, O thou who givest freely.

Thou hast claimed all good things for thine alone— those that stand in the sun, and those that hide in shadow.

Turn not away from my longing, O liberal lord; thou art he who hearkeneth, and he who giveth, Indra.

Who set light within the light? Who joined the sweet with the sweetness?
Lo, a dear and strengthening word is now spoken unto Indra by Br̥haduktha, shaper of holy song.