índra sómam imám piba mádhumantaṃ camū́ sutám | asmé rayíṃ ní dhāraya ví vo máde sahasríṇam purūvaso vívakṣase ||
1 O INDRA, drink this Soma, pressed out in the mortar, full of sweets. Send down to us great riches, —at your glad carouse-in thousands, O Most healthy. Thou art waxing great.
tuvā́ṃ yajñébhir ukthaír úpa havyébhir īmahe | śácīpate śacīnãṃ ví vo máde śréṣṭhaṃ no dhehi vā́riyaṃ vívakṣase ||
2 To thee with sacrifices, with oblations, and with lauds we come. Lord of all strength and power, grant-at your glad carouse-the best choiceworthy treasure. Thou art waxing great.
3 Thou who art Lord of precious boons, inciter even of the churl. Guardian of singers, Indra, —at your glad carouse-save us from woe and hatred. Thou art waxing great.