WHAT friend of man, God-loving, hath delighted, yearning therefor, this day in Indra's friendship? Who with enkindled flame and flowing Soma laudeth him for his great protecting favour?
Who hath with prayer bowed to the Soma-lover? What pious man endues the beams of morning? Who seeks bond, friendship, brotherhood with Indra? Who hath recourse unto the Sage for succour?
Who claims to-day the Deities' protection, asks Aditi for light, or the Ādityas? Of whose pressed stalk of Soma drink the Aśvins, Indra, and Agni, well-inclined in spirit?
To him shall Agni Bhārata give shelter: long shall he look upon the Sun up-rising, Who sayeth, Let us press the juice for Indra, man's Friend, the Hero manliest of heroes.
Him neither few men overcome, nor many to him shall Aditi give spacious shelter. Dear is the pious, the devout, to Indra dear is the zealous, dear the Soma-bringer.
This Hero curbs the mighty for the zealous: the presser's brew Indra possesses solely: No brother, kin, or friend to him who pours not, destroyer of the dumb who would resist him.
Not with the wealthy churl who pours no Soma doth Indra, Soma-drinker, bind alliance. He draws away his wealth and slays him naked, own Friend to him who offers, for oblation.
Highest and lowest, men who stand between diem, going, returning, dwelling in contentment, Those who show forth their strength when urged to battle-these are the men who call for aid on Indra.
