I AM prepared to laud with song or worship the Noble Ones who are in Earth and Heaven, or Coursers who have triumphed in, the contest, or those who famed, have won the prize with glory.

Their call, the call of Devas, went up to Heaven: they kissed the ground with glory-seeking spirit, there where the Devas look on for happy fortune, and like the kindly heavens bestow their bounties.

This is the song of those Immortal Beings who long for treasures in their full perfection.

May these, completing prayers and offers, bestow upon us wealth where naught is wanting.

Those living men extolled thy deed, O Indra, those who would fain burst through the stall of cattle, fain to milk her who bare but once, great, lofty, whose Sons are many and her streams past number.

Sacivan, win to your assistance Indra who never bends, who overcomes his foemen. Ṛbhukṣan, Indra, the hymn's upholder, who, rich in food, bears man's kind friend, the thunder.

Since he who won of old anew hath triumphed, Indra hath earned his name of Vṛtra-slaycr. He hath appeared, the mighty Lord of Conquest. What we would have him do let him accomplish.