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1. WHEN, Vasu, wilt thou love
the laud? Now let the channel bring the stream.
The juice is ready to ferment.
2 He whose two Bay Steeds
harnessed well, swerving, pursue the Bird's tail-plumes,
With Rowing manes, like heaven and earth, he is
the Lord with power to give.
3 Bereft of skill is Indra,
if, like some outwearied man he fears
The sinner, when the Mighty hath prepared
himself for victory.
4 Indra with these drives
round, until he meets with one to worship him:
Indra is Master of the pair who snort and
swerve upon their way.
5 Borne onward by the
long-maned Steeds who stretch themselves as 'twere for food,
The God who wears the helm defends them with
his jaws.
6 The Mighty sang with Lofty
Ones: the Hero fashioned with his strength,
Like skilful Matarisvan with his power and
might,
7 The bolt, which pierced at
once the vitals of the Dasyu easy to be slain,
With jaw uninjured like the wondrous firmament.
8 Grind off our sins: with
song will we conquer the men who sing no hymns:
Not easily art thou pleased with prayerless
sacrifice.
9 When threefold flame burns
high for thee, to rest on poles of sacrifice,
Thou with the living joyest in the self-bright
Ship.
10 Thy glory was the speckled
cup, thy glory was the flawless scoop.
Wherewith thou pourest into thy receptacle.
11 As hundreds, O Immortal God,
have sung to thee, so hath Sumitra, yea, Durmitra praised thee here,
What time thou holpest Kutsa's son, when Dasyus
fell, yea, holpest Kutsa's darling when the Dasyus died.
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