O Indra, hear us in the hour of our need! The enemy marches against us, his chariots rolling like thunder across the plain. His spearmen are numberless; his war-drums shake the very earth. Our warriors steel themselves for the combat, but fear hath touched their hearts. Therefore we cry out to thee, O unconquerable lord!

Descend now from thy throne in the highest heaven! Ride forth in thy golden chariot, drawn by thy swift horses. Let thy banner lead our armies into battle. Let thy war-cry echo across the plains, and let our enemies hear it and flee in terror. Thou art mightier than all the foes of the Devas combined.

We have prepared the sacred fire; we have mixed the soma with ritual care. The mantras have been chanted; the invocations are complete. The priesthood stands ready with the sacred vessels. Now, O golden one, accept our offering! Let the smoke rise up to thee in the heaven-realm, and let it carry with it our desperate prayer.

Destroy our enemies, O Indra! Break their formations as thou didst break Vṛtra. Let thy lightning strike their commanders; let thy thunder deafen them. Cause their horses to rear and throw their riders; cause their chariots to overturn. Let the earth open beneath their feet and swallow them whole.

For us, O mighty one, grant victory! Let our warriors return home with their shields unmarred. Let them bring back spoils and captives. Let the women of our tribe sing songs of our triumph, and let the names of our victorious men be remembered for all generations. O Indra, we place our trust in thee — thou alone art our deliverance!