As rain from out the cloud, for you, Indra and Agni, from my soul This noblest praise hath been produced.

Do ye, O Indra and Agni, hear the singer's call: accept his songs.

Ye Rulers, grant his heart's desire.

Give us not up to poverty, ye Heroes, Indra and Agni, nor To slander and reproach of men.

To Indra and to Agni we bring reverence, high and holy hymn, and, craving help, softwords with prayer.

For all these holy singers here implore these Twain to assist them, and monks that the, may win them strength.

Eager to laudyou, we with songs invoke you, bearing sacred food, fain for success in offering.

Indra and Agni, come to us with favour, ye who conquer men: Let not the wicked master us.

At no time let the injurious blow of hostile mortal fall on us: O Indra and Agni, shelter us.

Whatever wealth we crave of you, in gold, in cattle, or in steeds, that, Indra and Agni, let us gain;

When heroes prompt in worship call Indra and Agni, Lords of steeds, beside the Soma juice effused.

Call hither with the song and lauds those who best subdue the foemen, those Who take delight in hymns of praise.

Slay ye the wicked man whose thought is evil of the demon kind. Slay him who stays the waters, subdue the Serpent with your deadly dart.