The story begins with the auspicious step of the generous god, whose unconquered paths are as fortunate and radiant as the gaze of the sun itself. To Indra, the mighty, the seventh and the third parts of the sacrifice are sung with ancient praises; the skillful and harmonious Rudras join in celebrating this timeless one. Indra, invigorated by the pressed Soma, has grown in strength and power; today, as in ages past, the mighty ones extol his greatness. Singers, learned in hymns and wise in guidance, offer their praises to Indra and Agni, seeking their favor and abundant wealth. Together, Indra and Agni have shaken ninety fortresses of the Dasa women with a single, powerful deed. Prayers approach these two gods, following the true and righteous path. Their powers, their abodes, and their beneficial actions are unfailing and steadfast. Indra, master of power, is invoked for fortune, with all unconquered approaches; the people strive for wealth under his renowned and discerning gaze. He is the source of many gifts—horses and cattle in abundance, golden and overflowing. The supplicants ask him not to withhold his generosity, but to grant all that is sought. Indra is called to come to the one who desires, to bestow fortune and wealth, to raise up sweetness for those seeking cattle and horses. Indra possesses thousands and hundreds of herds to give, and through song, Purandara, another name for Indra, is made renowned as a helper. The one who gives all wealth, the delightful priest among people, receives the first vessels of honey, and the praises are directed to Agni. The generous ones, skilled in chariot-driving and praised like swift horses, are celebrated in word and deed. The wondrous lord of clans grants wealth—offspring and descendants—to the generous. The invocation is sent to Varuna, asking him to hear and show mercy today, for help is sought from him. Questions arise: with what aid does the mighty one never tire? With what support does he bring gifts to his worshippers? To Indra, the offerings are brought; at sacrifice, the priests call upon him; for the gaining of wealth, he is invoked as the great bestower of riches. By his greatness, Indra has stretched out heaven and earth; by his might, he has made the sun shine; all beings are contained in Indra, and in him, the pressed Soma flows. The all-creating one, growing through the offering, is called to worship himself with his own form, for his power is true. Let others be confused, but may the generous lord be wise for his devotees. Purifying himself with a shining golden hue, he overcomes all enmity with his team, gleaming like the sun. The stream upon his back shines forth, the tawny one, moving in all forms with hymns, with seven mouths, resounding with praise. The wise one guards the eastern direction; his rays drive forth the seer’s chariot, divine and visible. Hymns come to gladden heroic Indra for victory, and in battle, he becomes the unbroken thunderbolt. Indra knows the wealth of traders, gathering it with the mothers into his own house. With true thoughts, he brings forth song in the house, where thoughts contend. With three-colored, shining wings, he sets radiance in place, and for his devotees, he grants the wealth of cows, the thought of horses, and the strength of men. To the joyful one—of true strength, of eager desire—men are called to know his longing. May the immortal sons listen to these songs and show their grace. For heaven and earth, great and shining praise is offered, pure and worthy of their commendation. Purifying themselves, heaven and earth rule with their own power and unique forms, upholding the ancient truth. Great is the aid of Mitra, who upholds truth and takes his seat at the sacrifice. In their assembly, a word is spoken, not concealed, like a pigeon in its nest. To the lord of gifts, the singer of praises, the heroic one, glory is wished, accompanied by fair speech. He is called to stand upright in help, the hundred-powered one, in the contest, so that his followers may speak boldly among their allies. The cows, adorned with gold, have come to the watering place, rich with the sap of sacrifice. Stones have flowed together, and sweet juice pours into the vessel at the outflow of the watering place. With reverence, the streams pour forth, high-spoked, far-traveling, never-failing. The people pray not to fear or grow weary in the fierce company of the mighty one, wishing to witness the great deeds he has done for Turvasha and Yadu. With his left flank, the powerful one stirs; the giver is not angered by this. The cows, mingled with honey and adorned, come forth, and the god is invited to drink the flowing nectar. Songs, radiant and pure, wise and discerning, are sung to Purūvasa, praising him with hymns. Honored by a thousand sages, he has spread forth like the ocean; his greatness is true, and his power is praised in sacrifice and in the sovereignty of the wise. All—Aryan and Dasa—are subject to him; even the hostile enemy is subdued. To him, the radiant one, wealth is offered. The swift ones sing the honeyed, clarified butter; the sages chant the hymn. For the devotees, wealth and mighty power spread; for them, the streams belong to Indu. Indu, pressed with cows and horses, skillful and wealthy, pure in color, is to be cherished among the cows. Let Indu, lord of the Haris, be most divine, a shining friend among the noble, a companion in friendship. Thus, through praise, offering, and devotion, the gods are invoked, their greatness celebrated, and their blessings sought for wealth, strength, and wisdom.