THE chanters hymn thee, they who say the word of praise magnify thee. The priests have raised thee up on high, O Śatakratu, like a pole.
As up he clomb from ridge to ridge and looked upon the toilsome task, Indra observes this wish of his, and the Rain hastens with his troop.
Harness thy pair of strong bay steeds, long-maned, whose bodies fill the girths, And, Indra, Soma-drinker, come to listen to our songs of praise.
Come hither, answer thou the song, sing in approval, cry aloud. Good Indra, make our prayer succeed, and prosper this our sacrifice.
To Indra must a laud be said, to strengthen him who freely gives, That Śakra may take pleasure in our friendship and drink-offerings.
Him, him we seek for friendship, him for riches and heroic might. For Indra, he is Śakra, he shall aid us while he gives us wealth.
Easy to turn and drive away, Indra, is spoil bestowed by thee. Unclose the stable of the kine, and give us wealth O Thunder-armed
The heaven and earth contain thee not, together, in thy wrathful mood. Win us the waters of the sky, and send us kine abundantly.
Hear, thou whose ear is quick, my call; take to thee readily my songs O Indra, let this laud of mine come nearer even than thy friend.
We know thee mightiest of all, in battles hearer of our cry. Of thee most mighty we invoke the aid that giveth thousandfold.
O Indra, Son of Kuśika, drink our libation with delight. Prolong our life anew, and cause the seer to win a thousand gifts.
Lover of song, may these our songs on every side encompass thee: Strengthening thee of lengthened life, may they be dear delights to thee.
