Bibliotheca Polyglotta

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.

yás pátir vā́riyāṇãm ási radhrásya coditā́ |
índra stotr̥̄ṇā́m avitā́ ví vo máde dviṣó naḥ pāhi áṃhaso vívakṣase ||

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.

yuváṃ śakrā māyāvínā samīcī́ nír amanthatam |
vimadéna yád īḷitā́ nā́satyā nirámanthatam ||

4 Strong, Lords of Magic power, ye Twain churned the united worlds apart, When ye, implored by Vimada, Nāsatyas, forced apart the pair.

víśve devā́ akr̥panta samīcyór niṣpátantiyoḥ |
nā́satyāv abruvan devā́ḥ púnar ā́ vahatād íti ||

5 When the united pair were rent asunder all the Gods complained. The Gods to the Nāsatyas cried, Bring these together once again.

mádhuman me parā́yaṇam mádhumat púnar ā́yanam |
tā́ no devā devátayā yuvám mádhumatas kr̥tam ||

6 Sweet be my going forth, and rich in sweets be my approach to home. So, through your Deity, both Gods, enrich us with all pleasantness.

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