Rig Veda

Book 8, Hymn LIII. Indra

1. MAY our hymns give thee great delight. Display thy bounty, Thunderer.
Drive off the enemies of prayer.

2 Crush with thy foot the niggard churls who bring no gifts. Mighty art thou
There is not one to equal thee.

3 Thou art the Lord of Soma pressed, Soma impressed is also thine.
Thou art the Sovran of the folk.

4 Come, go thou forth, dwelling in heaven and listening to the prayers of men:
Thou fillest both the heavens and earth.

5 Even that hill with rocky heights, with hundreds, thousands, held within.
Thou for thy worshippers brakest through.

6 We call on thee both night and day to taste the flowing Soma juice:
Do thou fulfil our heart's desire.

7 Where is that ever-youthful Steer, strong. necked and never yet bent down?
What Brahman ministers to him?

8 To whose libation doth the Steer, betake him with delight therein?
Who takes delight in Indra now?

9 Whom, Vṛtra-slayer, have thy gift and hero powers accompanied?
Who is thy dearest in the laud?

10 For thee among mankind, among the Pūrus is this Soma shed.
Hasten thou hither: drink thereof.

11 This, growing by Soma and by Śaryaṇāvān, dear to thee,
In Ārjīkīya, cheers thee best.

12 Hasten thou hitherward, and drink this for munificence to-day,
Delightful for thine eager draught.