WHEN we have pressed the juice we laud thee, Indra, and when, Most Valorous we have won the booty. Bring us prosperity, as each desires it under thine own protection may we conquer.
Sublime from birth, mayst thou O Indra, Hero, with Sūrya overcome the Dāsa races. As by a fountain's side, we bring the Soma that lay concealed, close-hidden in the waters.
Answer the votary's hymns, for these thou knowest, craving the Ṛṣis’ prayer, thyself a Singer May we be they who take delight in Somas: these with sweet food for thee, O Chariot-rider.
These holy prayers, O Indra, have I sung thee: grant to the men the strength of men, thou Hero. Be of one mind with those in whom thou joyest: keep thou the singers safe and their companions.
Listen to Pṛthi's call, heroic Indra, and be thou lauded by the hymns of Venya, Him who hath sung thee to thine oil-rich dwelling, whose rolling songs have sped thee like a torrent.
