Come now, O Indra, lord of might and thunder, we call thee to the pressing of the soma. The juice hath flowed; the stone hath struck it sweetly; the Agni blazes bright upon the altar. Come drink of this, made ready by our hands—come gladdened by the offering we present.

Of old did thy great deeds resound through heaven—the demon Vṛtra thou didst shatter with thy bolt. The Fort of Gold fell down before thee, crumbling; the waters flowed forth at thy word of power. Now once again receive our songs and soma, and come to us as thou hast come of old.

Thou art the hero whom no foe resisteth, the breaker of all strongholds built by demons. Thou holdest in thy hand the bolt of thunder; thou ridest forth to battle on thy chariot. Hear now the voice of those who gather here—we praise thee, mighty Indra, lord of lords.

From thee come forth the cattle and the waters, the riches given to those who love thee well. The singer praiseth thee with voice and hymn-verse; the soma floweth forth at thy command. Grant unto us the treasure of thy bounty; smile upon us with thy generous favour.

Immortal art thou, O Indra of the thunders, yet thou acceptest our mortal gifts with gladness. Come now, be thou our help in all endeavours; ward off the demons, foes, and those that trouble. We cry to thee—accept our hymn and soma.