Hymns to Indra

Hymn to Indra
(Rig Veda, I, 10)

The chanters hymn thee, they who say the word of praise magnify thee.
The priests have raised thee up on high, O Satakratu, like a pole.

As up he climb from ridge to ridge and looked upon the toilsome task,
Indra observes this wish of his, and the Rain hastens with his troop.

Harness thy pair of strong bay steeds, long-manned, whose bodies fill the girths,
And, Indra, Soma-drinker, come to listen to our songs of praise.

Come hither, answer thou the song, sing in approval, and cry aloud.
Good Indra, make our prayer succeed, and prosper this our sacrifice.

To Indra must a laud be said, to strengthen him who freely gives,
That Sakra may take pleasure in our friendship and drink-offerings.

Him, him we seek for friendship, him for riches and heroic might.
For Indra, he is Sakra; he shall aid us while he gives us wealth.

Easy to turn and drive away, Indra, is spoil bestowed by thee.
Unclose the stable of the kine, and give us wealth O Thunder-armed

The heaven and earth contain thee not, together, in thy wrathful mood.
Win us the waters of the sky, and send us kine abundantly.

Hear, thou whose ear is quick, my call; take to thee readily my songs
O Indra let this laud of mine come nearer even than thy friend.

We know thee mightiest of all, in battles hearer of our cry.
Of thee most mighty we invoke the aid that giveth thousand fold.

O Indra, Son of Kusika, drink our libation with delight.
Prolong our life anew, and cause the seer to win a thousand gifts.

Lover of song, may these our songs on every side encompass thee:
Strengthening thee of lengthened life, may they be dear delights to thee.


Hymn XI. Indra
(Rig Veda I)

All sacred songs have magnified Indra expansive as the sea,
The best of warriors borne on cars, the Lord of strength.

Strong in thy friendship, Indra, lord of power and might, we have no fear.
We glorify with praises thee, the never-conquered conqueror.

The gifts of Indra from of old, his saving succors, never fail,
When to the praise-singers he gives the boon of substance rich in kine.

Crusher of forts, the young, the wise, of strength unmeasured, was he born
Sustainer of each sacred rite, Indra, the Thunderer, much-extolled.

Lord of the thunder, thou didst burst the cave of Vala rich in cows.
The Gods come pressing to thy side, and free from terror aided thee,

I, Hero, through thy bounties am come to the flood addressing thee.
Song-lover, here the singers stand and testify to thee thereof.

The wily Susna, Indra! thou o’er-threwest with thy wondrous powers.
The wise beheld this deed of thine: now go beyond their eulogies.

Our songs of praise have glorified Indra who ruleth by his might,
Whose precious gifts in thousands come, yea, even more abundantly.