Which bright thunderer among our kin dost thou behold, and send abroad o’er the broad earth to give strength?
What strength hath he in the waking of dawn?
He forged the smiting-staff that breaketh all hindrance; he swelled it to fullness.

For he doth chase the song with his flash and his flame; he sitteth upon the wide womb of the world by his high hand.

With his nest-brethren, not lacking his brother, he it is who outmatch’d the witcheries of the seventh.

He driveth toward the prize, though borne on a beast whose far foot faileth.
At the winning of the sun, with mind set to gain, he besieged it, and, unshaken, he broke the loins of the idol-lovers; with his shape alone he took the hoard from the hall of a hundred doors.

He poureth forth the youngling streams, as a war-horse racing for the kine set as wager, when those who are yoked, footless and cartless, yet riding wooden bowls like steeds, hasten toward the ghee, toward the water.

With the Rudras hath he come—the Smith, whose wish is unseemly, yet who keepeth shame afar—forsaking his own hall.

It mindeth me of the ant-twain who stray’d from their hole, and one drew nigh, stole their meat, and left them wailing.

Even he, lord of the hearth, subdued the roaring Dāsa, he of six eyes and three heads.
Made mighty in strength, Trita smote the boar with his iron-tipp’d, god-breathed word.

He stood up for Manu and loosed his shaft at the guileful Arśasāna.
Born of Nahus and of us, most manful he was, and burst the holds of the Dasyus, as befitted him.

As a rain-cloud brimming, streaming on the field, he found us a fair resting-place.

When to the draught he draweth near in reverence, the hawk, with claws of iron, breaketh the Dasyus.

With men waxen in strength, he struck the proud ones low.
He gave over Śuṣṇa to Kutsa, for the Karpan’s due.
This one led the singer who sang him praise— who won his cloak, who stood foremost among the noble.

This one, well-pleased and mighty with his kin, a marvel among gods, master of hidden might as Varuṇa is.

This youth, who drinketh in holy wise, is found— he meted full measure to Araru, the four-footed foe.

Auśija Ṛjiśvan, by his song, burst the pen of Pipru and the bull within.
When he who is meet for the rite holdeth the pressed soma, and the hymn shall blaze bright, then shall he, besought, overcome the strongholds by his very shape.

Thus, O Lord, for the waxing of the mighty one, Little Ant crept with his many feet unto Indra.

He, being called upon, shall bring forth good:
strength, sustenance, and a worthy dwelling—all these hath he given.