HYMN XXXIV. Indra.

Ye who observe this day be with us even thrice: far-stretching is you bounty, Indra and your course.

To you, as to a cloak in winter, we cleave close: you are to be drawn nigh unto us by the wise.

Three are the fellies in your honey-bearing car, that travels after Soma's loved one, as all know. Three are the pillars set upon it for support: thrice journey ye by night, O Indra, thrice by day.

Thrice in the self-same day, ye Devas who banish want, sprinkle ye thrice to-day our offering with meath; And thrice vouchsafe us store of food with plenteous strength, at evening, O ye Indra, and at break of day.

Thrice come ye to our home, thrice to the righteous folk, thrice triply aid the man who well deserves your help. Thrice, O ye Indra, bring us what shall make us glad; thrice send us store of food as nevermore to fail.

Thrice, O ye Indra, bring to us abundant wealth: thrice in the Devas’ assembly, thrice assist our thoughts. Thrice, grant ye us prosperity, thrice grant us fame; for the Sun's daughter hath mounted your three-wheeled car.

Thrice, Indra, grant to us the heavenly medicines, thrice those of Earth and thrice those that the waters hold, Favour and health and strength bestow upon my son; triple protection, Lords of Splendour, grant to him.

Thrice are ye to be worshipped day by day by us: thrice, O ye Indra, ye travel around the Earth. Car-borne from far away, O ye Nāsatyas, come, like vital air to bodies, come ye to the three.

Thrice, O ye Indra, with the Seven Mother Streams; three are the jars, the triple offering is prepared. Three are the worlds, and moving on above the sky ye guard the firm-set vault of Heaven through days and nights.

Where are the three wheels of your triple chariot, where are the three seats thereto firmly fastened? When will ye yoke the mighty ass that draws it, to bring you to our offering. Nāsatyas?

Nāsatyas, come: the sacred gift is offered up; drink the sweet juice with lips that know the sweetness well. Indra sends, before the dawn of day, your car, fraught with oil, various-coloured, to our offering.

Come, O Nāsatyas, with the thrice-eleven Devas; come, O ye Indra, to the drinking of the meath. Make long our days of life, and wipe out all our sins: ward off our enemies; be with us evermore.

Borne in your triple car, O Indra, bring us present prosperity with noble offspring. I cry to you who hear me for protection be ye our helpers where men win the booty.