Indra, lord of hundred fortresses! Thy strongholds are as numerous as the stars in heaven, and they shall never be breached. Thou sittest upon thy throne of gold, and from thence thou dost command all things that are in heaven and upon the earth.

Thy thunderbolt is raised high, and it shineth with terrible light. No defense can withstand it. The walls of the strongest citadel crumble before thy wrath. The most cunning stratagem of the enemy availeth nothing against thy might.

Come, O Indra, to the pressing of the soma! The priests have gathered here in great numbers, and they have prepared for thee a most worthy offering. The sweetness of the juice doth rise up unto heaven, calling unto thee to come and partake of it.

We pour the soma with reverent hands, O mighty god! Each drop is a prayer, each libation a song of praise. Come thou down from the heavens above, and sit thou in the place of honor that we have prepared for thee.

Drink deeply, O Indra, and let thy strength be renewed! Let thy courage burn as a bright flame within thy heart! Make thyself ready for battle, that thou mayest go forth and smite down all thine enemies with thy irresistible thunderbolt.

The priests and the warriors stand before thee, awaiting thy command. We are thy faithful servants, and we shall do all that thou dost require of us. We have faith in thy mighty power, and we believe that no foe can stand against thee.

Come with thy golden chariot and thy bay-hued steeds! Come with thy hosts of divine beings, thy allies and companions! Come and accept the offerings that we have made, and grant unto us the blessings that we do so earnestly seek.

Give unto us victory in battle, O lord of a hundred fortresses! Let our enemies be scattered before us like leaves in the wind. Let their fortresses fall, and let their treasures become our spoil. And when the battle is done, grant us peace and plenty, that we may dwell in security and in prosperity all the days of our lives.