As sits the young bird on the tree rejoicing, ye, swift Pair, have been roused by clear laudation, whose Herald-Monk through many days is Indra, Earth's Guardian, Friend of men, the best of Heroes.
May we, when this Dawn and the next dance hither, be thy best servants, most heroic Hero! Let the victorious car with triple splendour bring hitherward the hundred chiefs with Kutsa.
What was the gladdening draught that pleased thee, Indra? Speed through our doors to songs, for thou art mighty.
Why comest thou to me, what gift attracts thee? Fain would I bring thee food most meet to offer.
Indra, what fame hath one like thee mid heroes? With what plan wilt thou act? Why hast thou sought us? As a true Friend, Wide-Strider! to sustain us, since food absorbs the thought of each among us.
Speed happily those, as SÅ«rya ends his journey, who meet his wish as bridegrooms meet their spouses; Men who present, O Indra strong by nature, with food the many songs that tell thy praises.
Thine are two measures, Indra, wide-wellmeted. Heaven for thy majesty, Earth for thy wisdom. Here for thy choice are Somas mixed with butter. May the sweet meath be pleasant for thy drinking.
They have poured out a bowl to him, to Indra, full of sweet juice, for faithful is his bounty. O'er Earth's expanse hath he grown great by wisdom, the Friend of man, and by heroic exploits.
Indra hath conquered in his wars, the Mighty: men strive in multitudes to win his friendship. Ascend thy chariot as it were in battle, which thou shalt drive to us with gracious favour.