Indra, thou art the warrior-god supreme! When thou drinkest the soma, thy strength becometh infinite. The cup raiseth itself to thy lips; the golden liquid floweth into thy mouth; and lo, thy power swelleth beyond all measure! The very worlds tremble at thy might!

It is the soma that maketh thee terrible. It is the soma that giveth thee thy lightning-strength, thy thunderbolt-arm, thy voice like rolling thunder. When thou hast drunk deep, thy roar shaketh the foundations of the earth. The mountains bow before thee. The winds flee before thy passage.

In thy hand is the Vajra — the diamond-thunderbolt, the weapon that cannot be broken, the tool with which thou didst slay the serpent Vṛtra who held back the waters of the world! None can withstand thee when the soma hath entered thy veins and made thee fierce as a beast! The demons shriek and hide; the asuras flee like cowards before thy approach.

Yet thou art not a wild beast, though the soma maketh thy fury terrible. Thou art wise as well as strong. The soma giveth thee counsel; it sharpeneth thy wit; it revealeth to thee the hidden places where thy enemies hide. The gods trust thee with their most dangerous tasks, for they know thou shalt accomplish them flawlessly.

O soma-drinking Indra, we bring thee our praise! We kindle the fire; we pour out the ghee; we press the sacred plants! Drink deep of our offering! Let the soma make thee mighty in our behalf! Turn thy thunderbolt against our enemies! Smite them down as thou smotest Vṛtra! Let thy roar make them flee in terror! Be for us the invincible warrior, the protector, the victor eternal!