Who is there that can stand against Indra? What enemy can resist his will? What mortal dares to defy him? None — for his power is absolute, his strength unquestionable, his dominion complete over all the worlds.

When Indra commandeth, the mountains bow. When he speaketh, the rivers obey. When his foot falleth upon the earth, the very ground trembleth. The gods themselves acknowledge his lordship. Even Varuna, the cosmic king, yieldeth to his greater strength.

In battle, who can match him? His arm neverfaileth to strike true. His thunderbolt seeketh out the enemy with the certainty of fate. Those who march against him are scattered like leaves before the wind. Their chariots are broken. Their warriors fall. Their fortresses crumble into dust.

The Dasyus feared his name alone. When word came that Indra approached, they abandoned their strongholds and fled into the wilderness. But Indra pursued them, and none escaped. His vengeance was swift and terrible. The earth drank their blood.

Thou art the lord of power, O Indra! Thy will is the will that moveth all things. Whatsoever thou decidest shall come to pass. Whatsoever thou forbiddest shall not occur. No force in all the cosmos can gainsay thee.

The Maruts, those fierce storm-gods, acknowledge thy supremacy. The Aśvins, those swift healers, bow before thee. The all-seeing sun himself doth honor thy name. Agni, the sacred fire, burneth with greater intensity when thou art near.

We mortals are as dust beneath thy feet, O mighty one. Yet thou regardest us with clemency. Thou protectest those who invoke thy name. None can harm thy worshippers while thy eye watcheth over them.

Therefore do we sing thy praise without ceasing. Thou art our shield, our fortress, our eternal king.