Come now, O Indra the Mighty, the Lord of the World-quarters, praise-worthy and sovereign! Thou art the slayer of foes, the roarer supreme, the wielder of the thunderbolt that burneth all enemies to ash. The whole earth trembleth at thy footstep; the waters flee before thee in terror and adoration.

Let me sing of thee, the unconquerable one, whose might is as the mountain's weight, whose wrath as the tempest's fury. Thou didst slay the serpent Vṛtra, that lay coiled in the mountain's womb, and freed the waters to their course. The dawn breaketh at thy command; the sun riseth to do thy bidding.

All the devas pay homage to thee, O King of Kings. Thy sovereignty reacheth to the uttermost bounds of heaven and earth. The Maruts, those swift-footed sons of the storm, follow at thy heel. The Adityas do obeisance before thy throne.

Thou art the drinker of the Soma's sweet juice, and it maketh thy strength yet greater. No mortal might shall stand before thee; no sorcerer's magic shall withstand thy rage. Thou art the protector of the righteous, the keeper of the sacred covenant, ṛta itself made manifest in deed and muscle.

Grant us thy favour, O Indra, and let our enemies fall like the rain upon the parched earth. Make our bodies strong, our arrows swift, our chariots unbreakable. Be thou the guardian of our herds and our young. Receive our offerings of Soma and our hymns of praise, and let thy blessings descend upon all who cry out to thee in righteousness.