Thou art the champion, O Indra! In every battle thou hast proven victorious. No foe hath stood before thee and lived to boast of it. Thou art the undefeated warrior, the lord of triumph, the eternal victor.

When the chariot wheels of thy enemies roll toward thee, thou breakest them beneath thy foot as though they were brittle wood. When their warriors raise their weapons, thou scatterest them like leaves before a gale. When their leaders cry out their orders, their own men flee in terror, knowing that resistance is futile.

Thy strength knoweth no equal among the gods. The very fierceness of thy countenance causeth the bravest warrior to quail. Thy battle-cry shaketh the earth. Thy thunderbolt singeth through the air like the song of death itself.

None have conquered thee because thou art unconquerable. None have wounded thee because thy skin is harder than stone, harder than iron, harder than any substance known to man or god. Thou wearest the wounds of thy enemies upon them, not upon thyself.

In the assembly of the gods, thy seat is highest. Thou drinkest first of the soma. The other deities yield to thy counsel. When thou speakest, all listen in silence. When thou commandest, all obey without question.

Yet thou art not cruel in thy victory, O mighty one. Thou givest honor to those brave warriors who fall before thy thunderbolt. Thou art magnanimous in triumph, gracious to those who surrender, merciful to those who acknowledge thy supremacy.

Therefore do we mortals, who cannot match thee in strength, honor thee with our offerings and our hymns. We recognize thy mastery. We acknowledge thy supremacy. We submit ourselves to thy will, trusting that thy power shall protect us from all harm.

Champion of the gods! Victor in every battle! Let thy favor rest upon us!