O Indra, hear our cry! We raise our voices unto thee in this dark hour. Our enemies press upon us from all sides. Their armies gather like locusts, numberless and terrible. Their warriors sharpen their weapons. Their priests speak curses against our people.

We are afraid, O mighty one. We mortals are weak and fragile. Our arms cannot match the strength of our foes. Our chariots are few compared to the countless vehicles of war that they bring against us. Our courage wavering in the face of such overwhelming numbers.

But thou — O Indra — thou hast never failed us in our hour of need! When we call upon thy name, thy ears hear our plea. When we lift our voices in prayer, thy heart is moved with pity toward us. Thou hast sworn to protect those who offer thee the soma and sing thy praises.

Come now, O golden-armed one! Come with thy thunderbolt gripped in thy mighty hand! Let the sound of thy approach strike terror into the hearts of our enemies! Let thy very footsteps shake the earth beneath their feet!

Thou hast slain greater foes than these! Thou hast broken the serpent that was eternal as the mountains. Thou hast conquered the Dasyus in their fortresses. These enemies of ours are as grass before the scythe compared to those whom thou hast vanquished.

Destroy them utterly, O Indra! Cast down their leaders! Break their chariots! Scatter their armies! Let no man among them escape to bring word of thy terrible might to distant lands!

And when the battle is finished, and our enemies lie dead upon the field, we shall offer unto thee the richest sacrifices. We shall pour soma until the bowls runneth over. We shall sing thy praises with voices that shake the heavens. We shall remember forever that it was thou who saved us in our darkest hour.

Hear us now, O mighty warrior! Come to us, and deliver us from our foes!