O Indra, giver of riches! Thou art the friend of the generous man who poureth out the soma in thy honor. To him that giveth thee the finest libation, thou givest cattle beyond number. His barns are filled with grain; his herds grow fat and multiplies. His enemies are brought low; his children are born healthy and strong.

The man who calleth upon thee with sincere heart shall not go hungry. Thou hearest the poor man's cry and raisest him from destitution. Thou givest to him new fields, new herds, new wealth. Through thy bounty, he becometh as a king among his people. His name is spoken with honor; his family thrives.

But those who turn their faces from thee, who refuse the soma, who mock the sacred rite—these shall languish in want. Their fields shall wither; their cattle shall sicken and die. They shall know only loss and emptiness. Thus doth thy justice work upon the earth, O mighty one.

We pour the soma in gratitude for thy generosity! The butter floweth upon the stone. The prayers ascend like smoke toward the heavens. Hear us, O Indra, and measure out to us the gifts we seek. Grant us abundance that we may share it with those in need. Make us wealthy not merely in possessions but in virtue, in wisdom, in the knowledge that all bounty cometh from thee.

We sing thy praises, O giver of good things! Thou art the source of all prosperity. Without thee, naught groweth; without thy blessing, naught flourisheth. Accept our offerings and our hymn, and let thy favor rest upon us and our descendants forever.