INDRA and Soma, burn, destroy the demon foe, send downward, O ye Bulls, those who add gloom to gloom.

Annihilate the fools, subdue them and burn them up: chase them away from us, pierce the voracious ones.

Indra and Soma, let sin round the wicked boil like as a caldron set amid the flames of fire. Against the foe of prayer, devourer of raw flesh, the vile fiend fierce of eye, keep ye perpetual hate.

Indra and Soma, plunge the wicked in the depth, yea, cast them into darkness that hath no support, So that not one of the, may ever thence return: s. May your wrathful might prevail and conquer them.

Indra and Soma, hurl your deadly crushing bolt down on the wicked fiend from Heaven and from the Earth. Yea, forge out of the mountains your celestial dart wherewith ye burn to death the waxing demon race.

Indra and Soma, cast ye downward out of Heaven your deadly darts of stone burning with fiery flame, Eternal, scorching darts; plunge the voracious ones within the depth, and let them sink without a sound.

Indra and Soma, let this hymn control you both, even as the girth encompasses two vigorous steeds- The song of praise which I with wisdom offer you: do ye, as Lords of men, animate these my meditations.

In your impetuous manner think ye both thereon: destroy these evil beings, subdue the treacherous fiends. Indra and Soma, let the wicked have no bliss who evermore assails us with malignity.

Whoso accuses me with words of falsehood when I pursue my way with guileless spirit, may he, the speaker of untruth, be, Indra, like water which the hollowed hand compresses.

Those who destroy, as is their wont, the simple, and with their evil natures barm the righteous, may Soma give them over to the serpent, or to the lap of Nirrti consign them.

The fiend, O Agni, who designs to injure the essence of our food, kine, steeds, or bodies, may he, the adversary, thief, and robber, sink to destruction, both himself and offipring.

May he be swept away, himself and children. May all the three earths press him down beneath them. May his fair glory, O ye Devas, be blighted, who in the day or night would fain destroy us.

The prudent finds it easy to distinguish the true and false: their words oppose each other. Of these two that which is the true and honest, Soma protects, and brings the false to nothing.

Never doth Soma aid and guide the wicked or him who falsely claims the Warrior's title. He subdues the fiend and him who speaks untruly: both lie entangled in the noose of Indra.

As if I worshipped deities of falsehood, or thought vain thoughts about the Devas, O Agni. Why art thou angry with us, Jātavedas? Destruction fall on those who lie against thee!

May I die this day if I have harassed any man's life or if I be a demon. Yea. May he lose all his ten sons together who with false tongue hath called me Yātudhāna.

May Indra subdue him with a mighty weapon, and let the vilest of all creatures perish, the fiend who says that he is pure, who calls me a demon though devoid of demon nature.

She too who wanders like an owl at night-time, hiding her body in her guile and malice, may she fall downward into endless caverns. May press-stones with loud ring destroy the demons.

Spread out, ye Devas, search among the people: seize ye and grind the Rākṣasas to pieces, who fly abroad, transformed to birds, at night-time, or sully and pollute our holy worship.

Hurl down from Heaven thy bolt of stone, O Indra: sharpen it, Indra, made keen by Soma. Forward, behind, and from above and under, smite down the demons with thy rocky weapon.

They fly, the demon dogs, and, bent on mischief, fain would they harm indomitable Indra. Indra makes sharp his weapon for the wicked: now, let him cast his bolt at fiendish wizards.

Indra hath ever been the fiends’ destroyer who spoil oblations of the Devas’ invokers: Yea, Indra, like an axe that splits the timber, attacks and smashes them like earthen vessels.

Destroy the fiend shaped like an owl or owlet, destroy him in the form of dog or cuckoo. Destroy him shaped as eagle or as vulture as with a stone, O Indra, crush the demon.

Let not the fiend of witchcraft-workers reach us. May Dawn drive off the couples of Kimīdins. Earth keep us safe from earthly woe and trouble: from grief that comes from Heaven mid-air preserve us.

Slay the male demon, Indra! subdue the female, joying and triumphing in arts of magic. Let the fools' gods with bent necks fall and perish, and see no more the Sun when he arises.

Look each one hither, look around Indra and Soma, watch ye well.