THOUGH, Indra, thou art called by men eastward and westward, north and south, Thou chiefly art with Ānava and Turvaśa, brave Champion I urged by men to Come.
Or, Indra, when with Ruma, Ruśama, Śyāvaka, and Kṛpa thou rejoicest thee, Still do the Kaṇvas, bringing praises, with their prayers, O Indra, draw thee hither: come.
Even as the wild-bull, when he thirsts, goes to the desert's watery pool, Come hither quickly both at morning and at eve, and with the Kaṇvas drink thy fill.
May the drops gladden thee, rich Indra, and obtain bounty for him who pours the juice. Soma pressed in the mortar didst thou take and drink, and hence hast won surpassing might.
With mightier strength he conquered strength, with energy he crushed their wrath. O Indra, Strong in youth, all those who sought the fray bent and bowed down to thee like trees.
He who wins promise of thine aid goes girt as with a thousand mighty men of war. He makes his son preeminent in hero might: he serves with reverential prayer.
On his left hip the Hero hath reclined himself: the proffered feast offends him not. The milk is blended with the honey of the bee: quickly come hither, baste, and drink.
Come like a thirsty antelope to the drinking-place: drink Soma to thy heart's desire. Raining it down, O Maghavan, day after day, thou gainest thy surpassing might.
Priest, let the Soma juice flow forth, for Indra longs to drink thereof. He even now hath yoked his vigorous Bay Steeds: the Vṛtra-slayer hath come near.
The man with whom thou fillcst thee with Soma deems himself a pious worshipper. This thine appropriate food is here poured out for thee: come, hasten forward. drink of it,
Press out the Soma juice, ye priests, for Indra borne upon his car. The pressing-stones speak loud of Indra, while they shed the juice which, offered, honours him.
To the brown juice may his dear vigorous Bay Steeds bring Indra, to our holy task. Hither let thy Car-steeds who seek the sacrifice bring thee to our drink-offerings.
Sharpen us like a razor in the barber's hands: send riches thou who settest free. Easy to find with thee are treasures of the Dawn for mortal man whom thou dost speed.
Pūṣan, I long to win thy love, I long to praise thee, Radiant God. Excellent Lord, ’tis strange tome, no wish have I to sing the psalm that Pajra sings.
My kine, O Radiant God, seek pasture where they will, my during wealth, Immortal One. Be our protector, Pūṣan! be, most liberal Lord, propitious to our gathering strength.