O Indra, thou art the mightiest of all the gods. None can compare unto thee in strength; none can rival thy deeds. Even Vṛtra the serpent, that great and terrible dragon, did fall before thy thunderbolt.

The five peoples do call upon thy name. The Kāṇvas do praise thee; the Vasishṭhas do sing thy songs. All the tribes of men do cry out unto thee in their time of need.

Thou dost give without measure; thou dost never refuse those who call upon thee with sincerity. The rich and the poor alike do share in thy bounty. Thy hand is always open, O Bull of Heaven.

The rain doth fall at thy command; the rivers doth flow at thy word. The earth doth bring forth her fruits; the cattle do grow strong and fat. All of this doth come from thy power and thy goodness.

Come unto us, O Indra! We have prepared the sacrifice. The Soma hath been pressed; the hymns have been sung. Drink of this draught and be glad! Let thy strength grow ever greater, that thou mayest continue to protect all who call upon thy name.