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Rig Veda
Book 8, Hymn LXXX. Indra
1. DOWN to the stream a maiden came, and found the Soma by the way.
Bearing it to her home she said, For Indra will I press thee out, for Śakra will I press thee out.
2 Thou roaming yonder, little man, beholding every house in turn,
Drink thou this Soma pressed with teeth, accompanied with grain and curds, with cake of meal and song of praise.
3 Fain would we learn to know thee well, nor yet can we attain to thee.
Still slowly and in gradual drops, O Indu, unto Indra flow.
4 Will he not help and work for us? Will he not make us wealthier?
Shall we not, hostile to our lord, unite ourselves to Indra now?
5 O Indra, cause to sprout again three places, these which I declare,—
My father's head, his cultured field, and this the part below my waist.
6 Make all of these grow crops of hair, you cultivated field of ours,
My body, and my father's head.
7 Cleansing Apala, Indra! thrice, thou gavest sunlike skin to her,
Drawn, Śatakratu! through the hole of car, of wagon, and of yoke.
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