O mighty Indra, hear our cry! We stretch our hands to thee in prayer. Grant us the wealth we do entreat; bestow upon us all good gifts. The herds shall multiply and grow; the fields shall yield their golden grain. Our enemies shall turn to dust; our foes shall scatter in the night.

We come before thee with the soma, pressed and filtered clear and bright. The butter flows like summer rain upon the altar's sacred place. The priests have chanted all the hymns; the fire doth roar and leap up high. Accept these offerings, mighty one, and hear the voices of the meek.

O Indra, thou art strong to save! Thou liftest up the fallen man. Through thy great mercy we do live; by thy great power we prevail. The widow finds her shelter safe; the orphan finds a father's care. The poor man gains his rightful share; the weak are strengthened by thy hand.

Guard us, O Indra, from all ill! Keep sickness far from our abode. Let pestilence and plague depart; let death pass by our dwelling-place. Ward off the curse, the evil eye, the demon's spite, the sorcerer's spell. Be thou our fortress and our shield; be thou our refuge evermore.

Grant us the favour that we seek; grant us the blessing that we crave. Let warriors born unto our line be fierce and fearless in the fray. May they go forth with steadfast heart and come back home with glory won. Let them protect our herds and kin, our lands and all our precious wealth.

O Indra, answer unto us! Accept this prayer, this sacred rite. Bestow upon the faithful folk the blessings that they justly earn. For ever let thy name be praised; for ever let thy glory shine.