HYMN XVII. Indra.

Rig Veda, tr. by Ralph T.H. Griffith, [1896], at sacred-texts.com

HYMN XVII. Indra.

1. DRINK Soma, Mighty One, for which, when lauded, thou breakest through the cattle-stall, O Indra;
Thou who, O Bold One, armed with thunder smotest Vṛtra with might, and every hostile being.
2 Drink it thou God who art impetuous victor, Lord of our hymns, with beauteousjaws, the Hero,
Render of kine-stalls, car-borne, thunder-wielding, so pierce thy way to wondrous strength, O Indra.
3 Drink as of old, and let the draught delight thee. hear thou our prayer and let our songs exalt thee.
Make the Sun visible, make food abundant, slaughter the foes, pierce through and free the cattle.
4 These gladdening drops, O Indra, Self-sustainer, quaffed shall augment thee in thy mighty splendour.
Yea, let the cheering drops delight thee greatly, great, perfect, strong, powerful, all-subduing.
5 Gladdened whereby, bursting the firm enclosures, thou gavest splendour to the Sun and Morning.
The mighty rock that compassed in the cattle, ne’er moved, thou shookest from its seat, O Indra.
6 Thou with thy wisdom, power, and works of wonder, hast stored the ripe milk in the raw cows' udders
Unbarred the firm doors for the kine of Morning, and, with the Aṅgirases, set free the cattle.
7 Thou hast spread out wide earth, a mighty marvel, and, high thyself, propped lofty heaven, O Indra.
Both worlds, whose Sons are Gods, thou hast supported, young, Mothers from old time ofholy Order.
8 Yea, Indra, all the Deities installed thee their one strong Champion in the van for battle.
What time the godless was the Gods’ assailant, Indra they chose to win the light of heaven.
9 Yea, e’en that heaven itself of old bent backward before thy bolt, in terror of its anger,
When Indra, life of every living creature, smote down within his lair the assailing Dragon.
10 Yea, Strong One! Tvaṣṭar turned for thee, the Mighty, the bolt with thousand spikes and hundred edges,
Eager and prompt at will, wherewith thou crushedst the boasting Dragon, O impetuous Hero.
11 He dressed a hundred buffaloes, O Indra, for thee whom all accordant Maruts strengthen.
He, Pūṣan Viṣṇu, poured forth three great vessels to him, the juice that cheers, that slaughters Vṛtra.
12 Thou settest free the rushing wave of waters, the floods' great swell encompassed and obstructed.
Along steep slopes their course thou tumedst, Indra, directed downward, speeding to the ocean.
13 So may our new prayer bring thee to protect us, thee well-armed Hero with thy bolt of thunder,
Indra, who made these worlds, the Strong, the ty, who never groweth old, the victory-giver.
14 So, Indra, form us brilliant holy singers for strength, for glory, and for food and riches.
Give Bharadvāja hero patrons, Indra Indra, be ours upon the day of trial.
15 With this may we obtain strength God-appointed, and brave sons gladden us through a hundred winters.