Hear now the praise of Indra, mightiest of all the gods! His strength is as the strength of mountains piled upon mountains. His will is sovereign over all that moveth and all that standeth still.

The demon Śuṣṇa built his fortress high, and barred the waters in its keep. He said, "The floods shall flow no more; the cattle shall perish; the land shall turn to dust." But Indra came forth with his thunderbolt raised high.

One stroke! The mountain split asunder. The stones cried out. The very heavens trembled at that blow. The waters broke their chains and rushed forth in torrents, bounding down the slopes like deer unleashed. The cattle came forth from the cave, lowing in gladness. The singers raised their voices to praise the liberator.

Now come the bay steeds of the god, fleet-footed and tireless. Their hooves strike sparks upon the stone. They bear the chariot of the Thunderer swiftly toward the altar where the soma floweth. The priests stand ready with the pressing-stone. The sacred juice is poured into the vessels.

Indra! We offer thee the soma, that drink of ecstasy and might. We call upon thee at the stone where the juice is pressed, day after day. Come to us, mighty one. Drink of this oblation that we have made with reverent hands.

The singers gather round the fire. Their voices rise in unison, chanting the ancient hymn. "Indra! Indra!" they cry. "Hear us! Come to the feast! Drink and be glad!" The smoke of the sacrifice ascendeth unto heaven, bearing with it the prayers of the faithful.

Thou hast shattered the demon's stronghold; thou hast set the waters free. Now we beseech thee, grant unto us thy bounty! Give us cattle in abundance, that our herds may multiply. Give us gold, that we may ornament the temple and honor the gods with rich gifts.

The poor man crieth out, "Indra, I have no oxen to plough my field." The merchant crieth out, "Indra, grant me safe passage through the mountain passes." The warrior crieth out, "Indra, give me strength in battle." And thou, O generous god, turnest not away from any prayer.

Thou art the lord of a thousand blessings. Thy hand is ever open. The gifts that flow from thee are as countless as the grains of sand upon the shore, as the stars in the firmament above. No god is so bountiful as thou; no mortal hath ever known such generosity.

We praise thee, O Indra, slayer of demons, breaker of fortresses, liberator of the waters! Come to the soma-stone and drink deeply. Rejoice with us at the feast. Let thy strength grow mighty through the sacred draught, that thou mayest go forth and conquer all thy foes.

May thy bay steeds run swiftly; may thy thunderbolt strike true. May thy arm be ever raised to defend the faithful. May thy bounty flow upon us without measure or end. So do we pray to thee, O mightiest of all the gods.

Thus the Kāṇvas lift their voices unto Indra, the lord of the soma-drinkers, the champion of the gods. Hear us, O Thunderer! Come to our altar. Drink and be glad, and grant unto us the blessings we seek.