Hail to thee, O Indra, slayer of Vṛtra! Thou didst grasp thy vajra, that bolt of heaven forged by Tvashṭṛ's hand, and didst smite the serpent where he coiled in the waters. Lo, how he fell! How the darkness broke before thy lightning!

The demon lay across the mountain-passes, blocking the rivers from their courses. Vṛtra, that ancient coil of chaos, held back the waters in his belly—but thou didst pierce him through. The vajra split his body; his strength poured out like a broken vessel.

Then the waters rushed forth! The rivers, long imprisoned, burst their bonds and flowed down to the lowlands, swift as war-horses freed from their stalls. The rains descended; the earth drank deep; the pastures grew green again. By thy deed, O Indra, creation was renewed!

The sun rose higher in his chariot; the stars shone clear; the worlds came into order. Chaos was driven back; the cosmic law stood firm once more. All things rejoiced at thy victory—the gods sang thy praise, the mortals cried out in thanksgiving.

This was thy great work, O master of battles: to break the bonds of chaos, to set the waters free, to make the worlds habitable for gods and men. No strength could match thy strength; no wisdom could foresee thy cunning. Thou alone couldst have done this deed.

Remember this triumph, O Indra, when we call upon thee! When we press the soma and raise our voices in thy honor, hear us as thou heardest the ancient call. Let thy mighty arm descend upon our enemies as once it descended upon Vṛtra!