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Rig Veda
Book 1, Hymn CLXXV. Indra
1. GLAD thee: thy glory hath been quaffed, Lord of Bay Steeds, as ’twere the bowl's enlivening mead.
For thee the Strong there is strong drink, mighty, omnipotent to win.
2 Let our strong drink, most excellent, exhilarating, come to thee,
Victorious, Indra! bringing gain, immortal conquering in fight,
3 Thou, Hero, winner of the spoil, urgest to speed the car of man.
Burn, like a vessel with the flame, the lawless Dasyu, Conqueror!
4 Empowered by thine own might, O Sage, thou stolest Sūrya's chariot wheel.
Thou barest Kutsa with the steeds of Wind to Śuṣṇa as his death.
5 Most mighty is thy rapturous joy, most splendid is thine active power,
Wherewith, foe-slaying, sending bliss, thou art supreme in gaining steeds.
6 As thou, O Indra, to the ancient singers wast ever joy, as water to the thirsty,
So unto thee I sing this invocation. May we find strengthening food in full abundance.
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