Thou art supreme, O Indra, among all the gods—no peer hath thy strength, no rival thy might. The mortals cannot match thee, nor the immortals themselves. Thou hast set the mountains firm upon the earth, thou who didst uphold the vault of heaven.

Who hath conquered as thou hast conquered? Who beareth a burden such as thine? The very sky trembled at thy growing power; the earth bowed down before thee. Thou alone art mighty beyond measure.

The lesser gods acknowledge thy dominion. The mightier deeds are thine—thou drankest first of the soma-juice and became what thou art, lord of all power. Thy thunder echoes through the three worlds; thy voice shaketh the foundations.

Thou givest strength to the warrior's arm; thou makest firm the hymn-singer's tongue. By thy favor the weak become mighty, and the fearful grow bold as lions. No enemy can stand before thee, no demon can hide from thy sight.

Praise, then, O Indra most mighty! Accept the butter-sacrifice, the soma pressed by our hands. We call upon thee in our hour of need, knowing that thou alone canst deliver us from peril. Thy glory is without end; thy deeds are sung in every world.

Let thy power flow through us, O lord. Make us like unto thee in courage and strength. For thou art the lord of lords, the king of all that moveth and all that is still. No god can rival thee, no mortal can equal thy name.