To thee, O Indra, go our songs of praise, even as the waters seek the hollow ground. Thou art the mighty one whose bounties stream in a hundred courses. Come unto us with thy favor, thunderbolt-wielder, breaker of strongholds, thou lord of strength.

We sing to thee, Indra of the bay horses, the tawny steeds that bear thee swift through heaven and earth. Thou art the giver of horses, the giver of kine, the giver of grain—lord of all abundance. Accept our hymn as the thirsty earth drinks the rain.

Thy weapon, the thunderbolt of gold, hath shattered the mountains and smote the serpent dark. With thy bolt of thunder didst thou free the waters, and the rivers came forth in their might, coursing down from the high places. The foe is broken beneath thy foot, O Indra, and his fortress falleth before thy rage.

We behold thy glory in the breaking of the dawn. The sun rideth forth as one whom thou hast granted. The very mountains bow before thee, and the sky itself stretcheth wide at thy command. Thou art the lord of the wide air and the earth below.

The Kāṇva singers call upon thee this day, O Indra. Thou art our kinsman and our friend. In ages past thy strength upheld our fathers, and thy bolt didst crush the enemies of old. The spoil of battle came to those whom thou didst favor; their cattle grew without number, their horses multiplied upon the plains.

Drink the soma that we have pressed for thee, O Indra! The milky draught, the honey-sweet offering, doth fill thy heart with gladness. When thou hast drunk and art made mighty, then dost thou go forth to victory, thy thunderbolt bright in thy hand.

We ask of thee, O generous one, the gift of horses. Grant us steeds swift as the wind, their manes flowing, their bodies bright. We ask of thee herds of cattle, numerous as the stars, with hides of gold and horns that gleam. Grant us grain in plenty, that our granaries burst full and our children hunger not.

Protect us from the evil foe, O mighty Indra! Be thou a wall about our dwellings. Turn aside the arrow of the enemy; make his chariot wheel sink into the mud. Let his spear be blunted, and his courage fail him when he standeth against those whom thou dost love.

Thou art the guardian of the dawn, and the protector of the day. When danger cometh, we do call upon thy name. Thy strength is without measure, thy valor without bound. No foe hath withstood thee; no stronghold hath resisted thy approach. The very gods themselves do honor thee and yield thee the highest place.

We make our offering and we sing our praise. Accept this hymn, O Indra, thou breaker of mountains, thou slayer of the dragon! Be gracious unto us in battle and in peace. Grant us thy favor, thy friendship, thy protection. Let thy hand be lifted in our defense.

So do we call upon thee, O mighty Indra, from the rising of the sun unto its setting. From the far shores of the eastern ocean to the western waters where the sun descendeth—over all this realm dost thou hold dominion. Thou art the king of gods and men, the lord supreme.

Come unto us, hear our songs, accept our offerings. Grant us what we have asked: the strength to overcome our foes, the bounty to sustain our life, the protection that only thou canst give. O Indra of the thunderbolt, O Indra of the bay horses, O Indra the mighty—we praise thee this day and forever.