O Indra, thou who drinkest the soma with mighty lips! The sacred draught hath entered thy flesh; thy sinews grow taut as bowstrings. The soma-fire burneth within thee, and thy limbs are full of radiance. Thou art emboldened now for battle, O thunder-wielder! The foe shall cower before thee.

We have poured the Soma upon the stone, that sacred flow. Thou hast drunk it deep, and thy valor hath doubled, tripled, grown beyond measure. No chariot can match thy might, no horse can bear thee but those fashioned by the gods themselves. Thy thunderbolt resteth in thy hand—the Vajra, golden and dreadful.

The enemy host mustereth in the plain, but thou laughest at their array. Thy strength is as ten thousand men; thy roar shaketh the pillars of heaven. When thou risest from the sacred enclosure, the very earth trembleth beneath thy feet. The waters part before thee; the mountains bow their crowns.

Grant us, O Indra, this same courage! Let thy mighty essence flow into our breasts as the Soma floweth down. Make us bold as thou art bold, fearless as thou art fearless. Let us drink the draught of victory with thee. Strike down our enemies as thou strikeest down the demons. Lead us forth from darkness into the light of triumph.

Thou art the greatest of all deities, O Indra! None can rival thy prowess, none can gainsay thy claims. We sing thy praises, we pour the libation, we raise our voices in this hymn. Receive our worship, hear our prayer, and grant us victory in all our undertakings.