You, who know the wealth of traders and gather it with the mothers into your own house, fill the dwelling with truthful thoughts and distant songs, where ideas contend and radiance is set with your three-colored, shining wings. Grant us, we pray, the wealth of cows, the strength of horses, and the vigor of men for our help. Men, know the desire of the joyful, the eager one whose true strength is felt, who sweats with effort. May the immortal sons listen to our songs and show us their grace. For you, O Heaven and Earth, we offer grand and shining praise, pure and worthy of your commendation. Purified, you rule with your own power and form, carrying forward the ancient truth. Great indeed is the aid of Mitra, who upholds truth and sits around the sacrifice. At your assembly, like a pigeon in its nest, I do not conceal my words from you. O lord of gifts, heroic singer of praises, may your glory be accompanied by fair speech. Stand upright for our help, O hundred-powered one, in this contest; let us speak among our allies. The cows have come to the watering place, adorned with gold and filled with the sap of sacrifice. The stones have gathered, sweet juice pours into the vessel at the outflow. Reverently, the high-spoked, far-traveling, never-failing streams pour out at the watering place. Let us not fear or grow weary in your fierce companionship, mighty one; let us witness the great deeds you accomplished for Turvasha and Yadu. With your left flank you stir, powerful one, and the giver does not grow angry. The cows, mingled with honey and adorned, come forth; approach and drink the flowing nectar. These songs of mine, O Purūvasa, radiant and pure, wise and discerning, have praised you with hymns. Honored by a thousand sages, you spread forth like the ocean; true is your greatness, praised in sacrifice and in the sovereignty of the wise. To you, O radiant one, all—Aryan and Dasa—are subject, and even hostile enemies are subdued. Wealth is offered to you. The swift ones have sung the honeyed, clarified butter; the sages have chanted hymns. For us, wealth and mighty power have spread; for us, the streams, O Indu, are our own. O Indu, pressed with cows and horses, skillful and wealthy, pure in color, you are to be held among the cows. Be for us, O Indu, lord of the Haris, most divine, like a friend in friendship, shining among the noble. Drive away from us any godless, hostile one; mighty Indu, dispel the double-minded. They anoint, adorn, and unite; they stir the power, anointing with honey. The golden-hooved ones seize the animal in the waters as it breathes and flies from the river. Sing to the wise, purifying one; the great stream flows, darkness rushes. Like a snake shedding its skin, the splendid one glides forth, like a playful youth, the tawny one moves on. The foremost king shines, exalted, established in the world by day; the tawny one, bathed in clarified butter, beautiful, oceanic, radiant-charioted, is purified for wealth and home. The eighth, the first half, with all the fires—O Agni, with the fires—may this sacrifice and speech be accomplished with strength and glory. Whatever is perpetual, we worship each god; for you, the offering is kindled. May the lord of the people, the delightful and worthy Hotar, be dear to us; may we be dear to our own fires. We call upon Indra, surpassing all, for our people; may he be ours alone. May you, O mighty one, accept this offering at the sacrificial feast; increase nourishment for us, unconquered. Like a bull among the herd, born of lineage, you stir the peoples with your strength; you are the unconquered lord. O gracious one, by your wondrous aid, inspire us toward gifts; you, Agni, are the charioteer of this wealth—lead us to secure refuge. Guard our offspring and descendants with your companions, unfailing and ever-present; Agni, drive away from us divine hostilities and the harms of the ungodly. O Viṣṇu, what is your renowned name, that you encircle? For I have declared, "I am Śipiviṣṭa." Do not hide your form from us, as when you appeared in another shape at the assembly. Now, O Śipiviṣṭa, I declare your offering, knowing your works; I praise you, mighty in the wilds, abiding at the farthest end of this expanse. For you, O Viṣṇu, I utter "vaṣaṭ"; may you accept this offering, O Śipiviṣṭa. May my praises reach you; may you all protect us always with well-being. O Vāyu, I have come to you, radiant one, with the foremost portion of the sweet drink; come here to drink Soma, O god, worthy of praise, with your retinue. Indra and Vāyu, you are worthy of these Somas, for the streams flow toward you both, just as waters descend together. O Vāyu and Indra, mighty together, lords of strength, come with your retinue on the same chariot for the drinking of Soma. Then, adorned through the night, you approach the prize, when thoughts urge the tawny one of Vivasvat to set forth. We prepare that exhilarating drink, pleasing to Indra, which the cows, with their strength, have bestowed, both in ancient times and now, O wise ones.