The great serpent Vṛtra reared his thousand-headed form against the sky. From his fangs came poison; from his maw came shadow. He barred the waters in his coils, and the rivers ceased to flow. The sun grew dim. All creatures withered.

Then came Indra, the slayer of dragons. Thou didst seize the Vajra in both hands, O mighty one, and thy shoulders grew broad as the heavens. Thy voice became as thunder rolling across the wastes. Thy eyes blazed with fire ancient and dreadful.

Thou didst approach the serpent where he lay coiled upon the peak. Vṛtra hissed and struck, his fangs like spears of iron. But thou wast swifter. Thou didst leap, and the Vajra sang through the air. It struck the coils; it shattered the head. The great worm writhed and fell.

From his body burst the waters—torrents upon torrents! The rivers remembered their courses and rushed toward the sea. The sun broke free and climbed again into the vault. All growing things rejoiced. The cattle lowed in gladness. Men lifted their faces to the light.

O Indra, champion of cosmic order! Thou hast slain the evil that would swallow all things. Thou hast restored the courses of nature. The Veda singeth of thy victory forever. We pour the soma and raise the hymn. Thy name shall not perish from the earth, O slayer of Vṛtra. Where there is darkness and despair, we shall call upon thee, and thou wilt come.