PRAISE Indra whom our songs must laud, sole Sovran of mankind, the Chief Most liberal who controlleth men.
In whom the hymns of praise delight, and all the glory-giving songs. Like the floods' longing for the sea.
Him I invite with eulogy, best King, effective in the fight, Strong for the gain of mighty spoil.
Whose perfect ecstasies are wide, profound, victorious, and give joy in the field where heroes win.
Him, when the spoils of war are staked, men call to be their advocate: They who have Indra win the day.
Men honour him with stirring songs and magnify with solemn rites: Indra is he who giveth case.
Indra is priest and Ṛṣi, he is much invoked by many men, And mighty by his mighty powers.
Meet to be lauded and invoked, true Hero with his deeds of might, Victorious even when alone.
The men, the people magnify that Indra with their Slina. songs, With hymns and sacred eulogies
Him who advances them to wealth, sends light to lead them in the war, And quells their foemen in the fray.
May he, the saviour much-invoked, may Indra bear us in a ship Safely beyond all enemies.
As such, O Indra, honour us with gifts of booty, further us, And lead us to felicity.
