X.73

✦ ─── ⟐ ─── ✦

Thou wast born strong, a might unto might, the gladdening one, most mighty, rich in craft and cunning.

'Twas the storm-lords, the Maruts, who upheld thee then, when thy mother—she best at bearing—would set thee forth in swiftness.

Though she fondled thee, she sank beneath the weight of guileful deeds and workings not of light.

The Maruts lifted thee with songs of praise, when the worlds lay hidden, as if shadowed beneath a great footfall.
From gloom, from earliest morn, the unborn stirred.

High are thy steps when thou dost stride.
The Vājas and all their kin gave thee their strength.
Thou, O Indra, didst seize a thousand young wild dogs within thy mouth. Turn now the twin riders hither.

Even so, full swift, thou drivest to the rite; bring the Nāsatyas nigh in fellowship.

Thou bound a thousand in the womb of the worthy bride; the Aśvins, rejoicing, gave their gifts, O mighty one.

Made glad, for truth's sake to beget,
Indra strode forth with stout-hearted friends.
For he drew nigh unto the Dasyu’s snares, and with his craft, did scatter night and murk.

Smoke didst thou send upon him, even unto the twain that bear one name;
thou broke him, Indra, like Dawn’s own car.
With thy high-hearted, eager band, in one blow thou didst undo the roots of his heart.

Thou didst smite Namuci, who craved the fight, and made the wily Dāsa bare, for the seer’s sake.

Thou madest straight the paths for Manu, as though they led in troth unto the gods.

Thou hast fulfilled all thy names in full; thy mastery shown, thou took’st them in thine hand.

The gods delight in thy broad might;
thou overturned their wooden frames.

When his wheel sank low beneath the waves, that milk—sweet like honey—was his delight:

the udder bound unto the ground, the draught thou set in kine and growing green.

And when they say, “He came of horse,”
I reckon him begot of strength.
He came of fervent war-craft; he abode in a house secure— yet whence he came, that knoweth Indra alone.

Now the fine-feather’d fowl have flown to thee, O Indra— the Priyamedhas, seers in their need.

Unseal the dark; fill our eye with light.
Loose us, who lie as snared in unseen bonds.