Rigveda 8.92

INVITE ye Indra with a song to drink your draught of Soma juice, All-conquering Ṣatakratu, most munificent of all who live.

Lauded by many, much-invoked, leader of song, renowned of old: His name is Indra, tell it forth.

Indra the Dancer be to us the giver of abundant strength: May he, the mighty, bring it near.

Indra whose jaws are strong hath drunk of worshipping Sudaksha's draught, The Soma juice with barley mixt.

Call Indra loudly with your songs of praise to drink the Soma juice. For this is what augments his stiength.

When he hath drank its gladdening drops, the God with vigour of a God Hath far surpassed all things that are.

Thou speedest down to succour us this ever-conquering God of yours, Him who is drawn to all our songs

The Warrior not to be restrained, the Soma-drinker ne'er o'erthrown, The Chieftain of resistless might.

O Indra, send us riches, thou Omniscient, worthy of our praise: Help us in the decisive fray.

Even thence, O Indra, come to us with food that gives a hundred powers, With food that gives a thousand powers.

We sought the wisdom of the wise. Ṣakra, Kine-giver, Thunder-armed! May we with steeds o’ercome in fight.

We make thee, Ṣatakratu, find enjoyment in the songs we sing, Like cattle in the pasture lands.

For, Ṣatakratu, Thunder-armed, all that we craved, as men are wont, All that we hoped, have we attained.

Those, Son of Strength, are come to thee who cherish wishes in their hearts: O Indra, none excelleth thee.

So, Hero, guard us with thy care, with thy most liberal providence, Speedy, and terrible to foes.

O Ṣatakratu Indra, now rejoice with that carouse of thine Which is most splendid of them all;

Even, Indra, that carouse which slays the Vritras best, most widely famed, Best giver of thy power and might.

For that which is thy gift we know, true Soma-drinker, Thunder-armed, Mighty One, amid all the folk.

For Indra, Lover of Carouse, loud be our songs about the juice: Let poets sing the song of praise.

We summon Indra to the draught, in whom all glories rest, in whom The seven communities rejoice.

At the Trikadrukas the Gods span sacrifice that stirs the mind: Let our songs aid and prosper it.

Let the drops pass within thee as the rivers flow into the sea: O Indra, naught excelleth thee.

Thou, wakeful Hero, by thy might hast taken food of Soma juice, Which, Indra, is within thee now.

O Indra, Vritra-slayer, let Soma be ready for thy maw, The drops be ready for thy forms.

Now Ṣrutakaksha sings his song that cattle and the steed may come, That Indra’s very self may come.

Here, Indra, thou art ready by our Soma juices shed for thee, Ṣakra, at hand that thou mayst give.

Even from far away our songs reach thee, O Caster of the Stone: May we come very close to thee.

For so thou art the hero’s Friend, a Hero, too, art thou, and strong: So may thine heart be won to us.

So hath the offering, wealthiest Lord, been paid by all the worshippers: So dwell thou, Indra, even with me.

He not thou like a slothful priest, O Lord of spoil and wealth: rejoice In the pressed Soma blent with milk.

O Indra, let not ill designs surround us in the sunbeams' light: This may we gain with thee for Friend.

With thee to help us, Indra, let us answer all our enemies: For thou art ours and we are thine.

Indra, the poets and thy friends, faithful to thee, shall loudly sing Thy praises as they follow thee.