|
1. SAKRA I praise, to win his aid,
far-famed, exceeding bountiful,
Who gives, as 'twere in thousands, precious wealth to him
who sheds the juice and worships him.
2 Arrows with hundred points,
unconquerable, are this Indra's n-dghty arms in war.
He streams on liberal worshippers like a hill with springs,
when juices poured have gladdened him.
3 What time the flowing Soma-drops have gladdened
with their taste the Friend,
Like water, gracious Lord! were my libations made, like
milch-kine to the worshipper.
4 To him the peerless, who is calling you
to give you aid, forth flow the drops of pleasant meath.
The Soloa-drops which call on thee, O gracious Lord, have
brought thee to our hymn of praise.
5 He rushes hurrying like a steed to Soma
that adorns our rite,
Which hymns make sweet to thee, lover of pleasant food. The
call to Paura thou dost love.
6 Praise the strong, grasping Hero, winner
of the spoil, ruling supreme oer mighty wealth.
Like a full spring, O Thunderer, from thy store hast thou
poured on the worshipper evermore.
7 Now whether thou be far away, or in the
heavens, or on the earth,
O Indra, mighty- thoughted, harnessing thy Bays, come Lofty
with the Lofty Ones.
8 The Bays who draw thy chariot, Steeds who
injure none, surpass the wind's impetuous strength -
With whom thou silencest the enemy of man, with whon; thou
goest round the sky.
9 O gracious Hero, may we learn anew to
know thee as thou art:
As in decisive fight thou holpest Etasa, or Vasa 'gainst
Dasavraja,
10 As, Maghavan, to Kanva at the sacred
feast, to Dirghanitha thine home-friend,
As to Gosarya thou, Stone-darter, gavest wealth, give me a
gold-bright stall of kine.
|